


The Price We Pay-Revised Edition

by TehLadyCav



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Love Triangles, Mildly Dubious Consent, Past Abuse, Polygamy, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:15:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TehLadyCav/pseuds/TehLadyCav
Summary: This is how the world ends. This is how the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I realize this is very late, but after several hair pulling days, I've managed to finish this. If you've read the previous version, you probably will be surprised at the different angle I'm using here. I plan on following the show and the comics much more closely. Until a certain point. Anyway, thank you guys for reading. As always comment, kudos, bookmark, subscribe.
> 
> As an aside anon commenting is turned on, so you don't have to leave me notes on FF anymore!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit guys. I cannot seem to get my shit together! Want to laugh at me? I uploaded the wrong, wrong, wrong version. I'd written three versions of chapter one and yeah, somehow I didn't even fucking notice until now. This is why I get for posting on two hours of sleep.
> 
> Please don't kill me!

**NAYNA**

 

Negan stalked towards her like a jungle cat on the prowl. With glimmering eyes the color of chocolate, he stared into her soul. Even at this distance, her head tipped back as she studied him. She ignored the sinking lump in her stomach as she scanned his broad, chiseled face, entranced as his tongue dragged along his lower lip. What would his beard feel like scraping against her nose and lips? Would his tongue tease as much as his eyes?

An elbow bumped into her arm, breaking her from her daze. It was only Rick, grabbing for his gun. Liquid heat rushed upwards from her breasts to her cheeks as the man caught her staring. A slow, malevolent grin spread across his face, showing off perfect white teeth and deep to-die-for dimples. He smiled as if they shared a naughty secret between themselves.

Nayna lowered her eyes, taking in the rest of him. Dark leather jacket with matching gloves. Over his shoulder lay the infamous baseball bat Jesus told them about.

Still, he advanced on them until he stood only a few feet away. Toes curling in her worn boots, she braced herself, holding her head high and throwing her shoulders back. Any sign of fear would make her weak in his eyes. Those eyes flickered between Nayna and Rick, stopping for more than a second on her before flitting back to Rick.

He thrust his hand out, pointing between the two of them. “Which one of you pricks is the leader?”

In a show of solidarity, Rick pressed his thigh against hers. Nayna sucked in a deep breath and surveyed Negan through half lidded eyes.

“I guess we have to fucking do this the fucking hard way. Let's try this again. Which one of you is fucking Rick?”

“His wife,” she said unable to stop herself. Instead of looking to her right towards Rick with the sour stare, Nayna turned her nose up at Negan.

His heady gaze fell upon her and she shivered, though the wind had died down. Her heart began to beat rapidly, making her jittery stomach roll with dread and anticipation.

“You his wife?”

Soles of boots scuffing on the empty streets and the occasional cough or sniff penetrated the silence between her and Negan.

He shook his head, laughing a little. “You fucks really like doing things the hard way, don't you? Any-fucking-way. I'm Negan and I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my men to kill your men for killing my men...You killed more of my men. Not cool. Not fucking cool. You got no idea how fucking uncool that shit is.”

She swallowed hard against the panic in her throat. “What do you fucking want?”

“What I want?” He put his hands on his wide chest. “It's not about what I want. It's about what you fucking owe me.”

Rick shifted beside her. “And if we say no?”

Negan chuckled and spread his arms. “Rick, it's about fucking time you got used to the new world order. The new world order is this, and it's very simple, so even if you're stupid, which..you very well may be...you can understand it. Ready? Here it goes. Pay attention.”

He leaned in close to them with his wicked grin. The smells of soap, mint and cologne filled her nose, sending a warmth racing down her body. There was something familiar about the cologne, though she couldn't grasp the memory behind it. She had the sudden urge to bury her face in his chest, inhaling his scent over and over. The twinkling malice in his eyes was the only thing stopping her.

“Give me your shit, or I will kill you.”

Nayna burst out giggling at the absurdity of the situation. They'd survived the CDC, the fucking Governor, and Terminus for this. The laughter threatened to erupt and bubble over. Rick jabbed his elbow into her ribs and she covered her mouth to hide the snorting. She felt his eyes boring into her willing her to shut up but she couldn't stop. The smug expression on Negan's face, the confidence with which he said those words and the air of utter surety emanating from him set off her giggles.

Negan turned his smile on her. “Something funny, doll?”

She ignored the little thrill running up her chest, making her heart stutter when he called her doll. Gesturing, around her she gave another bark of laughter. “This is fucking ridiculous.”

“As fucking ridiculous as it sounds,” he said as he jabbed a thick, gloved finger against her chest. “The truth still fucking stands. You work for me now. You have shit—you give it to me. That's your job.”

She pushed his hand off and rubbed the place where he'd poked her. God, she wanted him to touch her again and again. Nayna pressed her lips together, barely suppressing a snort and making Rick glare at her. She took a deep breath and rearranged her face into cop mode.

Negan continued on as if Nayna hadn't so rudely shoved him away. “I know, it is a mighty big pill for you to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly motherfucking will. I get it. You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. And then you killed a good fucking portion of my men. Have I told you how fucking uncool that shit is? I'm sure I fucking have. Anyway, you're fucking fucked. You fucking owe me now. And what I want is half your shit. If that's too much, well you can make, find or steal more. You know, it'll all even out in the end. And if you don't give it to me, you'll be even more fucked. Next time we come knocking you will open that door for us immediately, or we will fucking knock it the fuck down. Understand?”

He glanced between Nayna and Rick, one brow perched above the other. He cupped his free hand around his ear. “No answer? Well, you didn't think you'd get out of this without being punished, now did you?”

Nayna cleared her throat and brushed her fingers against Rick's wrist. “Look, I understand that we--”

She froze as he grabbed her by the jaw and put his gloved thumb over her lips. “--doll, kindly shut the fuck up, okay? It's my turn to fucking talk.”

Her eyes narrowed and her fingers curled into fists as she resisted the urge to bite him. Rick grabbed her elbow, a silent warning her to keep her cool.

“Let go,” she said, her lips sliding over the leather. In her minds eye she saw herself taking that thumb in her mouth...

Rick stepped forward, throwing an arm between the two of them. She stumbled backwards but he paid her no heed. “I'm the leader, if you have a problem, you come to me. Now what do you fucking want?”

Negan laughed again. “I just fucking told you I want half your shit.”

Rick shook his shaggy head. “And if we say no?”

Negan grasped the bat ever so gently by the handle, hauling it off his shoulder and caressing it, fingers gliding along the grip to the taper, stopping right before the natty barbed wire. Her already knotted stomach rolled as she realized the purpose of the bat. One of them was going to die.

“This is Lucille. She is awesome,” he said as he stalked back and forth like a large, bulky lion. “Now it's just a matter of picking out which one of you gets the honor.”

Rick's voice was strangled when he spoke. “No, no.”

“Well, what do you expect after killing so many of my men? Step the fuck off, Rick.”

Nayna grabbed the sleeve of Rick's jacket and tugged him back next to her. She glanced up at him and shot him an imploring look, begging him to trust her. He half turned away, and she stepped up to Negan until they were nearly chest to chest. The heat of his body radiated into her, staining her cheeks a dark pink. “No.”

Negan put a hand on her chin, making her heart skip another beat. “No? This isn't fucking Burger King, doll. You can't have it your way.”

Her mind raced, going a thousand miles an hour as she tried to search for a way to save them all. “There must be something...You can't...”

His hand slid down and he wrapped his fingers around her throat, the cool leather of his glove making her shiver. His thumb swept back and forth over her quickening pulse. She had to swallow to get a grip on herself, trying not to imagine his hand gliding down the front of her shirt, slipping into her vest and cupping one of her breasts, weighing it, considering it, maybe even squeezing it.

Negan leaned down, so close his straight nose almost touched hers. “I'm fucking in charge here. I'll do whatever the fuck I want. And now you gotta pay. How many of my men did you kill?”

She licked her lips, and her voice came out quite husky. “Quite a few.”

“Exactly. And tell me, dollface, why should I let you go unpunished?”

His sweet, minty breath purled over her cheeks. Nayna closed her eyes, shuddering at the warmth of his breath in the cool air. “I didn't say unpunished. You don't think taking half our shit isn't punishment enough? We're already starving here.”

He glanced around and his smiled widened. She turned her head as far as his grip would allow. He stared at Olivia. Poor, overweight Olivia, as sweet as she could be. Negan snapped her head back to look at him. Behind her, she could fucking feel everyone's eyes glued to her. Could feel Rick's anger. She prayed he wouldn't say anything, wouldn't fuck up her plans.

“Starving? No. But it's my shit. All of it is mine. As I told your fucking friend, Rick, you work for me now. No, no, no. You are not coming out of this smelling like a fucking rose.”

She pressed her lips together, cheeks flaming as the space between her thighs throbbed. “There must be some agreement we could come to.”

Another unsavory grin spread across his face. He allowed his hand to drop down onto her shoulder and his gaze fixated on her breasts. She became aware of how her vest pressed them together and pushed them up, how they bobbed with every breath she took in. Part of her enjoyed the attention. Part of her wanted to punch him. She shifted uncomfortably, and his hazel eyes slid downward, taking the rest of her body in before he stared back into her eyes. She knew her face was red, red, red. Yet, as her common sense recoiled, there was something in her mind that was slightly...intrigued. Nayna liked the way his gaze focused on her, as if she were a woman and not just...Nayna. When he looked at her, she didn't feel so invisible; and she hated it while loving it at the same time.

“You know, you may be fucking right,” he said, picking up the heavy, dark braid from her shoulder and twirled the ends between his fingers.

He held Lucille out to Rick. “Hold this.”

Nayna glanced over her shoulder at Rick's blazing eyes. She inclined her head, gesturing for him to take the damned bat. He glared between the two of them before stepping forward and snatching the bat from Negan.

“Thanks,” Negan said, wrapping his free hand around her elbow and guiding her to a patch of empty grass, away from the others.

She regarded him, trembling on the inside. He picked up her hair again and brushed the ends along her lips.

“What are you offering dollface?”

“What are you looking for?” Nayna asked, grateful her voice remained level.

Negan cupped her chin, tilting her face upwards. “You're a fucking pretty girl.”

“And you're blind.”

“Oh no, doll, I fucking see you just fuckin' fine.”

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. She closed her eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His fingers brushed a stray hair away from her brow, and she fought against the instinct to recoil. He trailed them downwards to brush over her lips, leaving them tingling.

His voice was heavy and breathy when he spoke. “What's your name, doll?”

Her lips brushed his gloved fingers as she spoke. “Nayna.”

He chuckled. “What fucking kind of name is Nayna?”

She jerked back and squinted up at him. “The fuck kind of name is Negan?”

He put a hand on the small of her back and drew her closer. He trailed a finger along the curve of her jaw. Nayna glanced over her shoulder and her eyes met Rick's, asking her what the fuck she was doing. She lifted one shoulder up and then let it drop back down. When she glanced back at Negan, he smirked down at her.

“I'm gonna fucking call you doll. Sound good?”

She shrugged. “You can call me fuckhead for all I care. What do you want from me?”

“Tell me what the fuck you're doing, doll.”

She turned her attention back to him, anger rising at the glittering laughter in his eyes. She placed a hand on his firm chest and pushed herself back. “I'm protecting my people.”

He tilted his head to the side, a slight smirk on the corner of his mouth. “And I'm not fucking doing the same?”

She realized her fingers had curled slightly into the rough leather of his jacket. Nayna let her hand drop and dangle by her side. “Fine. Kill me. If you're going to kill one of us, let it be me.”

He glanced down at her limp hand and laughed. “You're too fucking hot to die. If I bash in your head, you'll never make it into my fucking spank bank.”

She sucked in her lip. The thought of Negan touching himself both appalled her and turned her on. Again, she peered over her shoulder at the scared faces behind her, making her heart ache. She grabbed her elbow with her other hand and stared at the toes of her boots.

He grabbed her face on both sides and tipped her head back. “I'm feeling fucking lenient and reasonable here. Normally, I would beat the holy hell out of one of you, but I think...I think that's not gonna work. Not with you fucks.” His stare fell behind her. Nayna glanced over her shoulder at Rick and was surprised to see him teeming and trembling with anger.

Negan guided her head back to him, smiling. “I know exactly what I fucking want. I know exactly what will keep all you fuckers in line. Fear with a fucking mixture of hope.”

“What do you mean?” she asked in a tiny voice, so unlike her own.

“Come on,” he said, grinning. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her confused self back to the amassed people.

Negan began addressing the crowd of Alexandrian's. “In exchange for the life of one of you now, Nayna has offered to take your fucking place. If one of you so much as steps out of line, toes the line, fucks the line, I will kill her. Do you understand?”

“No,” Rick said, reaching out and yanking her towards him. She stumbled, but regained her footing as Rick stepped in front of her. “No fucking dice.”

Negan raised a thick black brow at them. She rubbed her forehead and sighed, holding up one finger at him. She motioned for Rick to step to the side with her, to the place where she and Negan just left.  
“Are you fucking stupid, Rick?”

He glanced first at Negan, and then at Michonne for reassurance. Nayna grabbed his chin and turned him towards her.

“This is our only chance.”

His jaw tightened. “No, I won't let you do this.”

“I'm the only one who doesn't have...You have the kids and Michonne. Daryl and Carol have each other. Glenn has Maggie, who's pregnant. Sasha has...look, I'm the only one who isn't connected...It has to be me. I have no one. I can't not do this. I can't not save our people.”

He reeled back as if she slapped him. “And you're implying I wouldn't do anything to save them?”

She blinked up at him. “Stop. This is how it's going. This isn't...You may be the leader, but don't you forget who steps in when you lose your shit. Who takes charge when you don't. Who makes the hard decisions when you can't. So don't you fucking throw that at me. Don't you twist my fucking words around.”

He stared hard at the street. “What about me?”

She sighed. “Rick, please don't do this. I'm trying to save everyone. He's fucking willing to make a goddamn deal.”

“It's not a fucking deal Nayna. He gets half our shit and...you.”

She grasped the front of his jacket and shook him. “It's the best goddamn deal we're gonna get. So fucking deal with it. Or don't. But shut up and let me take care of this.”

Rick was cornered. She glimpsed into his eyes and felt a strange pang of unfounded longing. Not a new feeling for her, but not one she ever dwelt on. Being the pragmatic girl she was, she turned away from him and slipped back to Negan and his wolfish grin. That same fucking grin he'd worn ever since he'd first laid eyes on her.

Negan grasped her hair once more, letting the braid slip through his hand. “Well?”

She blew her bangs off her forehead and gave him a curt nod. He grinned and laid her hair across her shoulder, his leathered fingertips skimming down her bare arm. Instinctively, she pulled away and he chuckled. She wished he would touch her again and draw her closer to his warmth. Being away from him, the heat of the May evening had been sucked away. She shivered, watching Negan grinning down at her indulgently.

He gestured toward the truck. She shook her head, suddenly afraid.

“Get in the fucking truck,” he said, keeping his voice pleasant and cool.

She glanced back at the truck and shook her head. The truck meant certain death. Her body may have ached for Negan, but her mind feared him and what he might be capable of. “And how would they know I'm alive, Negan? You want to hold me for good behavior? Can't do that if they're constantly thinking I'm dead. This ain't how it works. I'm gone, they'll forget. But if I stay here, well, it'll remind them constantly that I'm a marked woman.”

She was only half bullshitting him, boldly staring into his eyes as he mulled her honeyed words over.

“Don't fucking think I don't know what you're fucking doing, doll. You're fucking lucky you make a good point. Fine, but one misstep from you, dollface, and you're coming back with me. Got it?”

She exhaled the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in. “Yes, of course. I would do nothing to jeopardize the lives of my people.”

“Good,” he said, leaning down to whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her ear. “And I fucking look forward to seeing you later, doll.”

It took everything she had to not move away, to show no emotion, especially when he traced his thumb over the arc of her ear and all the way down to the lobe. Nayna wasn't sure if it was repulsion or an involuntary reflex causing her shiver. But Negan chuckled and tugged her braid before turning back to his men.

Behind her, she felt Rick fuming. The quiet discord of the crowd hung over her like a heavy fog. When she turned she was met with a smack of disapproving faces. She froze, looking all around. How else could she have saved everyone?

The worst part of it all? She wanted him, she felt an insatiable pull towards him. It was more than lust. She was drawn to him, like a moth to the flame. The moth knew it would be destroyed by the flame, yet it couldn't get enough of the dancing light.

She steeled herself and hitched her bow higher on her shoulder. Keep on keepin' on, that's all she had to do. Nayna moved through the parting crowd, ignoring the whispers, the stares, the sneers.

No one followed her home that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is chapter two (the right version this time, haha). As always don't forget to kudos, comment, subscribe or bookmark.

**RICK**

Nayna sacrificed herself to save everyone. At least, that’s what she wanted everyone to think. Rick understood her better than that. No, she sacrificed herself to save herself from the hell that was Alexandria.

She acted like he didn’t know she was miserable. Over the last six months, he’d watched her descend deeper and deeper into a pit of despair. At her urging, he trusted Aaron and agreed to come to Alexandria. She had insisted it would be better, they could rebuild their lives. There had been such hope and wonder in her voice.

She was a good actress. But not good enough. He saw right past her façade, past those sturdy walls she’d so carefully build for herself. Those damned walls that kept more people out than in.

As he stepped up the porch, the lump in his throat grew and grew. For a brief moment, he stopped inside the house and looked around at the dark and forlorn space. He tried to imagine it without Nayna, without her boots sitting haphazardly in the landing, without her bow and quiver hanging on the coat rack, without her sheaves of paper decorating the coffee table. As hard as he tried, he just couldn't imagine not having her in his life, and it made him angry.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind, he knew he was misdirecting his anger. He knew he should feel grateful to her, but he hated the fact that she took the choice from his hands. Hated that she chose herself for this. Hated that if she died, it would be his fault. Somehow, some way, it would be no one's fault but his own. He didn't want to live with that, or the giant hole in his heart that she would leave behind.

He took the stairs two at a time rapped on the door of her room. When she didn't answer, he pushed his way into the dimly lit and soft scented room. He wanted to close his eyes and take it all in, to remember that moment. Rick had to force himself to glare at her. Just looking at her made his heart contract painfully, and he wanted to run to her and wrap her in his arms, even if she hated hugs.

She sat on her bed, as delicate as a flower, with her arms wrapped around her legs and her rounded jaw perched on her knees. Her dark, silky hair fell in waves over her shoulders. He resisted the urge to walk over and comb his fingers through it.

In typical Nayna fashion, she stared at something only she could see, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world. Rick knew better. Though she often retreated deep into her own mind, there was always that part of her that remained on alert. He admired her capability to tune things out, but she had a tendency to check out more than he felt comfortable with.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” she asked suddenly, surprising him. Her gaze remained unfocused, though she rolled her chin side-to-side.

He blinked at her and closed the door behind him. She continued to hum to herself as Rick crossed the room and sat on her bed, folding one leg under the other.

“Why would I think that?”

She smiled an unnerving smile with far too many teeth. More of a grimace than a smile. “What I did was stupid.”

There was no denying that. Rick nodded at her. “Yes.”

Her large brown eyes flitted over to him, and then back to the mirror attached to the dresser. Rick sighed. Coming into the house, he'd been overwhelmed with rage. The anger hovering in his chest was misdirected. It was easier to be angry at her than himself.  The defeat on her gentle face made his heart ache and the anger began to dissipate. He reached out to stroke a knuckle down the hollow of her cheek, but she grabbed his hand and laid it in his lap. He fought to push down the hurt of her rejection. It was hard not to touch her, though he knew she hated it. His desire to comfort her often fought the urge to leave her alone.

He rubbed his hand over his beard. “Why, Nayna?”

That made her eyes snap back to him, pain shimmering through tears gathering in her eyes. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why would you do that?” 

She pressed her thin lips into a straight line. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do. Tell me why?”

“Desperation?”

Rick’s own mouth twisted. Yes, desperation, but for what?

“Now what?” he asked.

She tossed her head back and snorted like a wild horse. “Now you’re looking to me for advice?”

“Nayna…”

“You only want to hear my opinion when you agree with it.”

“I do value your opinion, but I don’t always agree,” Rick said.

She had no response for that. Again, she stared off towards the mirror, eyes glazing over as she pulled back. There were soft clicking noises coming from her. When she was upset, anxious, excited, or content, she sucked on her tongue without realizing it. It reminded him of Judith sometimes.

He waited for her to bring up the attack on the compound again. She had vehemently disagreed with them attacking, wanting to do a bit more reconnaissance before charging in. Looking back, she was of course right, but he had no way of knowing that then. All he knew was that he was tired of fighting her over it. Ever since, their friendship had been strained. He just wanted his best friend back. He relied on her too much to let her go.

She heaved a great sigh, blowing the stray hairs from her face. “ Now what?” 

Rick watched her small fingers drum against the light brown fuzz on her arms. “I really don't know... I don't like the way he touched you...” 

Nayna snorted, straightening her legs out and pointing her toes as she leaned back against the ugly pine headboard. She stretched her arms up and grasped the wood as she quirked a brow in his direction.  “Jealous?” 

Was he? Suddenly, her gaze became sharp and interested, turning her back into his Nayna.

He'd never really found Nayna to be the damsel in distress, waify type. Sure, she stood shorter than even Carl, and her features were delicate, aside from the heavy brow, but to him, she was so much larger than life. He didn't know how else to describe it. They'd been together since the beginning, and he had a hunch he was the only one to see her softer side. And even then, she didn't seem weak or scared, just kind and loving. She'd never seemed so vulnerable to him before, never so small. For the first time since he'd met her, he felt a surge of protectiveness over her, and he couldn't account for why. She'd always been... well, his strength, loathe as he was to admit it. She'd stood toe to toe with Gareth, spit in his face and told him to kiss her ass. Fuck, there was even the time she punched the Governor in the face, and would have done more had he not picked her up and physically removed her from the shack. His Nayna, who had never been afraid of jumping feet first into the fray, and there she was, looking tiny and frightened. 

And then she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling as a giggle escaped her lips. 

He tilted his head to the side. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, smiling wider as her hands fell limply in her lap. “Just thinking about you telling me I needed to get laid this morning. The world works in mysterious ways.” 

He frowned, swallowing down the lump and... maybe a hint of jealousy. “That's not funny.” 

She rolled her head back and forth along the roughness of the headboard. “Of course it's funny. Maybe not 'ha ha' funny, but it's fucking hilarious.”

He frowned at her as he conjured up an image of her writhing under Negan’s thrusting body. He could see the grimace on her face that she turned away to keep Negan from smothering her with his lips. His stomach lurched and he had to look away from her to get the idea out of his head.

“You’re not going to sleep with her,” Rick said, wincing.

She raised a brow at him. “Her? Who is she?”

A flush crept over his cheeks but he shook his head. “Him. You’re not sleeping with him.”

“Says who?”

“Me!”

She laughed a bitter, hollow laugh. “Oohh, so you’re the leader again? Because I thought that was Negan.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “What has gotten into you? Are you saying you want to…?”

She shrugged. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you all alive. If that means sucking his dick or kissing his ass, literally or figuratively, I’ll do it.”

A chill slithered in his belly. “What about you?”

Another shrug. “I’ll be fine. I always am. As long as you don’t fuck it up.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

She smiled her maniacal smile again as she leaned forward to purr in his ear. “Don’t think I don’t know how your mind works. Don’t think I’m not already one step ahead of you. I know we’re only biding our time here. I know you’re only pretending to fold. As am I. I’m not stupid.”

He stared at her, open mouthed. She knew him far too well. Her face melted into a sweet smile making his heart ache. This time, when he reached for her hand, she easily threaded her fingers through his and squeezed, showing him that they were indeed in this together. He needed to feel that she was real and warm and here, not in that elusive near-death state. He yanked her forward and wrapped his arms around her as she landed against him with a loud “oof!”

 She laughed a little, and put her hands on his shoulders. “Rick... what are you doing?”

 He said nothing as he buried his face in her hair and inhaled the familiar mixture of lavender, rose, coconut and the pure scent of her skin. A strange combination of odors that had come to signify Nayna. Had anyone asked what she smelled like, he wouldn't be able to tell them. But if he smelled the scent on the street, he'd be able to identify her immediately. He knew her that well. They'd slept pressed together, and been stuck in a thousand different close-call situations. She'd been there every step of the way. She was his best friend, and she'd thrown herself at... well... the reaper to save the rest of them. He'd already lost so much. Aside from Michonne or his children, he couldn't bear to lose her either.

 “Rick,” she said a little more firmly, patting his shoulder.

 Still, he did not let go, pulling her tighter against him. “Do you remember the stupid van?”

Though he couldn't see her face, he swore he could feel her eyes rolling into his shoulder as she let out a groan.

“How could I forget? Two days in the rain, stuck in a moldy, musty van that could only play that fucking song on repeat.”

 He started to hum “Don't Fear the Reaper” in her ear, but she shuddered and slapped his shoulders.

 “Seriously, don't. That song is fucking creepy. I know it's our song and all,” she joked as she struggled lightly against him. “But it's fucking creepy as hell.”

 He finally let her go, frowning a bit as she sat back. “What, you don't like creepy death songs?”

 Rick had meant to tease. He hadn't meant for his voice to come out clipped and snappy.

Nayna smiled, and patted his knee exactly two times before settling back against the headboard. She pulled one leg underneath the other and plucked at her black leggings as she stared into oblivion. He watched her toe point and flex to the rhythm of her plucking.

 “I love you, Nayna. You know that, right?” he said quietly.

After a pregnant pause she nodded absently. “I do know that. I appreciate it.”

They fell into another deafening silence with Rick shifting on her bed as she combed her fingers through her hair, lost in herself. Yet again, he found himself longing to touch her or run his own fingers through her shiny hair.

“I don’t know what he’ll want from me,” she said, all business suddenly. “But, I don’t fucking want him taking me away. So, I’d rather play nice.”

He sighed. “I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.”

“You don’t have to like it Rick. You just have to deal with it until we can find a way to beat him.”

“How? You saw how many men he had. He could have more.”

“There’s Hilltop. We already have an alliance with them. Look,” Nayna bent forward again, placing a small, warm hand on his knee. “We have two things going in our favor. Time and the element of surprise.”

“I just don’t want another Governor.”

Nayna shuddered. “I don’t think he’ll be anything like the Governor.”


	3. Chapter 3

Nayna smoothed the crinkled photograph over her thigh. She traced her fingers over the outlines of William's rumpled face. Creases in the paper hid his once kind eyes and parts of his chin. Every time she glanced at the picture, which was less and less as time flew by, a sense of guilt overwhelmed her. They'd been so happy at the beginning. So in love, floating on top of a cloud. She couldn't figure out where it all fell apart.

A slight rap on the door made Nayna start and then scramble to stuff the picture back into the nightstand. “One moment.”

She smoothed the top of her hair down and straightened her clothes before opening the door to Carl. She resisted the urge to brush the hair from his forehead and away from his bandaged eye. As much as she wanted to be his mother, she never would be.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked from side to side. “Can I come in?”

Her brow twitched, but she stepped back and gestured to the bed. Carl scuffed past her and sat down. Nayna shifted between the balls of her feet as she watched him over her shoulder. After a single moment of hesitation, she closed the door and turned to him. “What's this about, love?”

He lay his palms on the edge of the bed and leaned forward. His dark stare bored into her face. “What are we going to do about Negan?”

Nayna bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Looking at him, all she saw perched upon her bed was Mini-Rick. She pressed her knuckles into her lips to hide a smile, though she knew he would see it in her eyes. She wore her heart on her face.

She surveyed Carl as she leaned back against the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you think we should do?”

Carl pursed his lips, the same way Rick did when he lost himself in thought. “I don't know. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt.”

The pain in Carl's voice stung her heart, and so she crossed the room, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me. I can take care of myself.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but she shook her head and bent down so her face was even with his.

“Carl, love. Please trust me. Trust your father. This isn't a problem we can fix overnight. Right now, anything we do would be the equivalent of rattling the beast's cage. For now, we simply have to bide our time.”

He looked down and fiddled with his jacket string. “I just... I don't want to lose anyone else.”

She cupped the left side of his face and tilted his head up to look him in the eye. “There is nothing you can do to stop death. It's a part of life. It's always been a part of life. It's awful and it sucks. You are not alone, feeling the way you do. But you can't be so afraid to lose something that you let it guide your choices. And you can't shut people out either. Somewhere in your heart, you have to find the balance. It's a lesson we all have to learn, love. Hell, I'm almost thirty and I still have trouble with it.”

Carl's face turned to stone. A sigh escaped her lips, but she did not let go of his face.

“Are you and my dad fighting?”

“Why do you think that?”

He shrugged. “I'm not stupid you know. You've been avoiding each other.” 

Nayna settled on the edge of the bed next to Carl. She folded one leg under the other and faced him, slipping her hand into his. “I think your father is upset because I didn't consult him before standing up to Negan. And he had every right to be angry. What I did was stupid and irresponsible and very much out of desperation. Tensions are high. They're going to be high as long as this is going on. Everything will be okay once we all cool off a little bit. Don't worry, we're all gonna get through this together, okay?”

“I just want things to be the way they used to be.”

She patted his hand. “Nothing will ever stay the same. Change is part of life. Gotta get used to it.”

Carl's lips twitched. “You're one to talk. You still wear your hair in the same braid, you still wear the same earrings every day, you sit in the exact same place for every meal and when you're patrolling you take the exact same path all the time.”

“Listen you little turd,” Nayna said, a grin spreading across her face, “I am old and set in my ways. Don't become me.”

He squinted at her, and then shook his shaggy head. “Whatever. Look... Keep me in the loop, okay? I know I'm young, but I'm old enough.” 

She nodded. “I know... It breaks my heart. I wish you'd gotten to be a kid for a while longer.”

“I don't mind.”

She smiled at him, remembering the self-importance that came with being fifteen and newly responsible. Carl wore that same look of distinct pride, knowing how much everyone counted on him. Unlike Rick, who hated it and fumbled quite often, Carl would be groomed for the role. And when the time came, he would be prepared.

He stood up, still holding her hand. She squeezed it.

“We’re gonna get through this Carl. All of us. In one piece. Trust me. Trust your dad.”

 

Negan came to the gate at precisely ten in the morning, the exact time he’d told them the previous week. Or he’d told Rick after she’d walked away. Everyone amassed at the town entrance, waiting as Eugene and Rosita dragged the massive gate open.

The tall, broad man himself sauntered in with a thousand watt smile and that goddamn bat swinging from his right hand. His men filed in, armed to the teeth with rifles and guns and swords and other bullshit weapons.

Her stomach clenched as she fingered the bow, the last gift William had given her before he’d gone on cruise. The last time she’d ever seen him.

“Hello, hello, hello all you motherfuckers.”

She could feel the collective grimace of the crowd, though she only wanted to roll her eyes at his over enthusiasm.

A few steps ahead, Rick stood, fists clutched to his sides as Negan strode up to him. “So, this is what’s gonna fucking happen. My men are going to fucking go through the houses, take half of everything and then we should be good to go.”

Negan’s eyes searched the crowd until he found her and he grinned, clapping Rick on the shoulder. “I’m gonna make myself better acquainted with Nayna in the meantime. The rest of you can get back to whatever it is you fucking fucks were doing. Scamper along.”

When the crowd had dispersed Negan turned to her with an almost friendly smile on his face. He hoisted his damned bat over his shoulder and gestured along the road. She fell into step beside him, staring ahead with her jaw locked.

“So, Naaaayna,” he said in a slight singsong voice.

She decided it was best not to respond. Instead she pressed her lips together and kept her eyes glued to the horizon.

“Were your parents hippies or something?”

“No,” she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Why?”

He studied her through half lidded eyes. “Trying to figure out where the name Nayna came from.”

She half-shrugged. “Who said it was my given name?”

“What is your given name?”

A twitch on her lips betrayed a smile. “If I won’t tell Rick my name, why do you think I would tell you?”

“Because if you fucking don’t I’ll bash your brains in.”

Laughter burst from her throat at the ridiculousness and earnest sentiment of his statement . “No, you won’t. I’m the only leverage you have over the community.”

His beard twitched, betraying a tiny smile that he tried to mask as a scowl. “One of your fucking friends, then.”

She snorted. “No, you won’t.”

He raised a brow at her, but didn’t push the subject. “Fine, I fucking won’t. But you owe me an answer then.”

“An answer to what?”

“What were your fucking parents?”

Nayna stopped and tilted her head back to stare into his handsome face. She sighed. “My dad was a drug addict and my mom was a shrew. Happy?”

“Drug addict huh? Coke, meth?”

“Narcotics. Painkillers…Look, why do you care?”

“Oh, I fucking don’t. Not really. Just making conversation.”

She said nothing, instead watching as his men wandered in and out of the houses in Alexandria taking what they thought was theirs, what they thought they were entitled to. It made her heart burn hot, but she forced herself to look anyway, to make a mental note of everything they were going to take. After a few pensive moments Negan cleared his throat and she slowly turned her attention back to him with a solitary shake of her head.

“Ah, I see what you’re doing, Negan. You’re trying to make me uncomfortable, anxious, upset. You’re trying to get into my head and manipulate me emotionally. Sorry, I grew up with all that bullshit. You can’t fuck with me. Not like that.”

He twirled Lucille over his shoulder, his eyes over her head, gazing at his men. “Funny, I seem to be getting a fucking rise out of you anyway, doll.”

“Of course you’d say that, asshat. Any tone, warble or quiver to my voice and you’ll assume I’m emotional or sad or what the fuck ever. As long as we’re on that page, I give no fucks how you feel or what you think of me.”

Negan smirked and his fingers curled into the nape of her neck, sending shudders quivering down her spine. She stiffened at the unexpected contact and her toes curled in her boots. Nayna resisted the urge to shove him off. Instead she let him steer her towards the infirmary.

“So,” he began and paused both in speech and movement. He watched her with the intensity of a starving man looking at a buffet. A completely different look than he’d been giving her just a moment earlier. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge as he dragged his calloused thumb back and forth at an achingly slow pace. She wished he would either stop or continue, though her mind was not so easily swayed.  “I figure we’re going to fucking be spending a lot of time together, seeing as how I need to keep my fucking eye on you. Make sure you’re not fucking me over or anything. How about we fucking get to know each other, doll?”

“I’d rather not,” Nayna said with a sniff.

“Too bad you don’t have a choice, sweetheart. Lucille here wants to fucking know all about you,” he said, a soft, malicious grin curving on his lips as he ran the very end of the bat down her leg.

She furrowed her brow up at him as she drew her leg away, causing her to stumble a bit. The hand at her neck kept her steady.

“Why don't you give me the fucking grand tour of this shithole?”

Nayna forgot to curb her temper. She forgot she was supposed to play nice. “Shithole? Fuck you.”

He went on unperturbed, chuckling at her indignity. “You know, because it's the hole where you're storing half my shit—shithole.”

“That's beyond unfunny. Worst joke I've ever heard in my life." 

He shook his head as if his sense of humor was lost on her. “That's the fucking joke, doll.”

She shoved his hand off her and stepped back. “Look, I get you need to keep tabs on me to make sure I haven’t run away. I get you can’t take my word for it. Whatever. But you’ve seen me, I’m here and now I’m going to fuck off. Over there. Alone.”

With that she stuck her nose in the air and swiveled about. Behind her Negan started laughing, a great big belly laugh as she stomped down the road towards Daryl’s blue truck.

“Later, doll!”

As tempting as it was to flip him the bird, she didn’t want to push her luck. There was only so far she could push him before he flipped out. Truth be told, she wanted to put as much distance between her and Negan as possible. There was something more than his brutish nature that made her insides squirm. His wolfish smile? That knowing gaze? Whatever it was, she wanted no part of it.

Daryl stood in the bed of the blue pickup, his eyes following her until she reached the truck. She also felt Negan’s eyes boring a hole into her back, but she tried to ignore it. Daryl wiped the sweat from his forehead, however, all he managed to do was smear the dirt across his face. Their eyes met and she tossed her head. One of the things she loved most about Daryl was that he knew when to keep his mouth shut. She climbed up in the bed of the truck and sat on the tailgate with her legs dangling over the edge.

Without a word Daryl dropped a bottle of frigid water into her lap. Nayna took a long drag from the bottle and handed it back to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

“You wanted rabbits,”  he said, gesturing to the empty cages as he set the water bottle on the edge of the truck bed.

She smiled. “ I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Naw, that was Rick.”

She studied her fingernails. “Oh.”

“Y’all still fighting.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question which made Nayna glance up at him. She half-shrugged.

“You were right and he knows it. Both times. It’s hard being leader and admitting you’re wrong.”

Nayna swiped the back of her hand across her nose. “We’re lucky Negan accepted my deal. What would have happened otherwise?”

She was purposely ignoring Daryl’s mention of Rick. The last thing she wanted to talk about was Rick. He occupied enough of her mind…and heart.

Daryl shrugged and his eyes cut over to where Negan was talking to one of his men, laughing and slapping him on the shoulder. “A whole flying shitfest, that’s what.”

She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. “What am I supposed to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Negan. He said he wants to get to know me. He makes me feel…weird.”

Daryl’s brows knitted together in a heavy scowl. “You’re askin’ the wrong person Nayna.”

“It was more of a rhetorical question,” she said, blowing out a puff of air.

“I don’t know. Fuck him?”

She burst out laughing. “Daryl!”

“Everyone saw the way he looked at you.”

It was her turn for her to scowl at him. “The way he looked at me? Like he wanted to kill me?”

“Or fuck you. Or both.”

She rolled her chin side to side, allowing the dizzying effect to wash over her. “Ugh. Not you too.”

He snorted, much like an impatient horse. “Not me too, what?”

“Abraham and…Abraham was teasing me earlier saying I needed to get laid.”

Daryl couldn’t hide his smile. “If the condom fits…”

She stopped moving her head and squinted at Daryl. “You’re such a dickface.”

“The best way to a man’s heart is his dick.”

She wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. There was nothing to say. Not when her belly was a pit full of wriggling snakes.

Daryl shrugged. “Maybe he won’t be so inclined to kill you if you fuck him a couple times.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Great.. Just what I always wanted to be when I grew up. I don’t want this.”

He sighed. “You’re Nayna. I don’t think it matters what you want. Not to you at least. No, you’re going to do what you feel like you have to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Protect us. And if it means fucking Negan, you’ll do it. Because you can’t protect anyone when you’re dead.”

A crisp chill slithered in the pit of her stomach, settling atop the writhing snakes. She began to regret drinking all that water.

“Somethin’ else I’ve been meaning to say, though it’s not my place.”

“You’re talkative today,” she said, stretching her legs out again.

“Yeah, I’m Mr. Fucking Chatterbox. Look, it’s about Rick.”

She pressed her cheek to her shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about him.”

"Nayna…Everyone knows.”

The cold water coiled in her stomach, threatening to make a sinister reappearance. She suddenly felt like she had been thrust into a dark, deep tunnel. Daryl’s voice warbled and echoed in a far off place, stretching into long, unrecognizable syllables. Two words and her whole world came crashing down around her.

She didn’t know how long she’d been in love with Rick. Since before the prison. Definitely when Lori was still alive, which made the guilt in her heart only worsen. He’d never returned her feelings, so it had always been a moot point.

But everything she did, she did it for him.

She swiped the tears from her watery eyes. Her voice came out high pitched and fast. “It’s my own fault, really. I kept waiting for him to be ready to move on and then I wanted to wait until we got settled in Alexandria. And then Jesse came. After she died, I wanted to give him space. I did. Too much space.”

Daryl came and sat beside her. He placed one hesitating hand on her shoulder. She made a face at him and he dropped his hand, hurt.

After taking several deep breaths she finally glanced over at him. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

“You need to let him go.”

“Why, so I can fuck Negan?”

“Nayna…”

She swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut again. “Michonne. Does she know?”

“Yeah.”

A whimper bubbled past her lips. She felt a sense of betrayal on Michonne’s part, but Nayna couldn’t blame Michonne for loving Rick. It was only natural for her to love Rick because Nayna loved him and she loved Michonne too.

An aching loneliness pumped her heart and filled her body with dread. All her life she wanted to be loved. Now she never would. Nayna stared over her shoulder at Negan. She was a marked woman.

He looked up as if he’d felt her gaze and grinned, giving her a wink before turning back to his men with Lucille propped on his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 Nayna poked a finger between the bars of the cage. “Shh, shh. It’s okay.”

While Negan and his men taunted and teased Rick, Nayna had gone to check the trap. Somewhere between her checking the trap and coming back, Daryl had loaded the truck up with a broken hutch and some chicken wire. Of course, now that she actually had the rabbits, he was nowhere in sight.

She felt a flare of annoyance. Why would he put them in the truck instead of in the damned yard? Now she would have to drag them and the bunnies to the backyard and pray neither one escaped.

Her eyes shifted back to Negan and she snorted to herself. Since he seemed so fucking smitten with her, maybe he would move the shit for her. Meh, not likely in any event. Whatever, she didn’t need Negan anyway.

Nayna set the cage down on the tailgate and clicked her tongue at the terrified creatures. The two rabbits had backed themselves into the corner of the cage, shaking and chittering at each other. Nayna clucked at them as she stuffed pieces of shredded lettuce between the bars. They wore the same look of bewildered fear that the Alexandrian’s had around Negan.

Behind her she could hear the scuffing of boots along the asphalt. By the looks of the people hurrying around her, she figured it was Negan.

And she was not disappointed.

“Hubba, hubba,” he said.

She squinted at Negan over her shoulder, wondering if he was out of his mind. Here she was, a hot, red-faced, sweaty mess with her hair falling out of her braid, covered in dirt and god-knew what else. Also, she noticed the scent wafting from her armpits was far from pleasant. Then again, why should she even care how she looked or smelled for that bastard?

Negan looked as sexy as ever in his tight white t-shirt, leather jacket and that half smirk, taunting her. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from drooling at his hands. As  much as she enjoyed the hard muscles of a man, there was something about a man’s hands that told her a lot. Negan’s were no different. His left hand was bare and swung back and forth with purpose as he strode towards her, while he wore a single leather glove on the hand wrapped around Lucille’s handle.

She really had to stop referring to the bat by name.

His hands were large, stocky, befitting his stature. From the few times she’d seen him, they’d never been idle. Like the man who wielded them, they were loud and boisterous, blustering their way through life. And yet, she’d seen them so incredibly gentle when cradling Lucille. She imagined it would be the same if he were cradling her head, his lips covering hers.

“Doll?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts as he snapped his sturdy hand in her face.

She blinked and turned back to the rabbits to hide her face. The bunnies were busy tearing into the lettuce and eyeing her and Negan warily.

He cleared his throat and she squeezed her eyes shut, praying for patience and for the fire in her blood to die down. “What is it?”

“I said, don’t you look mighty fine today.”

With that, Nayna turned back to him, hands on her hips. “Are you blind?”

“Fuck no, I know a hot woman when I see one,” he said, gesturing at her with Lucille.

“Don’t point that thing at me,” she said, taking a step back.

“Thing? Fuck you, doll. This is Lucille. She is a lady and she needs some motherfucking respect…I think you should come give her a fucking kiss.”

Nayna raised a brow. “I think you should kiss my fucking ass, but I doubt that will happen, so it looks like we’re at a bit of a crossroads here.  My lips aren’t getting anywhere near that thing.”

Negan shook the bat at her, shaking his head, though he never lost that expression of mirth on his face. “I’ll kiss your ass if you ask me veeeery nicely, doll.”

Of course, Negan could turn anything sexual. “Well, you’ve already seen me today.  I haven’t run away in the hour you’ve been here, so go frolic somewhere else.”

He snorted and rested Lucille in the bed of the truck beside the cage. “What the fuck is this?”

She cut her eyes between him and the bunnies. “They’re rabbits.”

“Well, no fucking shit Sherlock. The fuck are you doing with rabbits?”

Nayna peeled off more bits of lettuce and shoved it in the cage. “Breeding them. It’s uh…my pet project.”

He chortled and wriggled a thick finger between the bars, stroking the soft fur of the female rabbit. “I see what you fucking did there, doll.”

Nayna half-smiled at him and wrapped her arms about herself. “What do you want, Negan?”

He glanced up at her and once again his eyes ran over her body. “Entertainment.”

“Then maybe you should find someone else to play with, I’m kinda busy,” she said, hoisting herself up the tailgate, only partially ignoring Negan’s gaze following her.

“The fuck are you doing that can’t wait a few hours?”

She gestured to the chicken wire and the broken wooden hutch. “I want to get them settled in before tonight. If I wait too long I won’t have time to finish. That cage is too fucking small for them as it is.”

He leaned against the truck and peered up at her through sinfully long lashes. “Beg off for a few hours, come on, let’s see who has a fucking pool table or ping-pong table or something, doll.”

She shook her head. “Pass. I’ve got shit to do.”

He sighed as she turned back towards the crap in the back of the truck. She could feel his eyes on her ass as she bent down to put on the thick, fabric gloves. Nayna gingerly stepped over Lucille. The last thing she needed was to trip and fall and break her ass on that fucking bat…The fucking bat that would ultimately be her demise.  She shuddered, suddenly cold.

“Hand me the fucking shit and I’ll help you fucking unload,” Negan said gruffly.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, raising a brow. “Beg pardon?”

“Hand that shit over and I’ll fucking help you. But if I do, you have to answer my questions.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Again, pass. You don’t need to know anything more than my name and the fact that I’m still here for my people.”

“Fucks sake, doll. A little conversation won’t fucking kill you. And if I recall correctly, from our conversation an hour ago, Nayna isn’t even your real name.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned away. “Can you just not?”

She bent down and snagged the chicken wire roll. Shit was heavy. Nayna dragged it to the edge. Before she could jump down, Negan had snapped it up and set it neatly on the ground, one black brow raised. “Come the fuck on, doll.”

“Fine, whatever. I’m not guaranteeing you’ll get any answers out of me,” she said, pushing the broken hutch to the edge of the tailgate. “Anyway, I don’t see why you even care to know anything about me. Doesn’t seem like your style, to be quite honest.”

Negan lifted the hutch with no problem and set it beside the chicken wire. “I’m fucking curious about the woman who would jump up to save others. Fucking stupid, but brave. I like that. You got balls.”

Nayna shrugged at him, sitting on the edge of the tailgate and sliding off. “You’re right, it was dumb, but I was fucking desperate. Do you blame me?”

“Blame you? Fuck no. Understand you? Also fuck no. I don’t fucking get why you’d sacrifice yourself for a bunch of assholes who wouldn’t do the same for you.”

She hoisted the cage with the rabbits onto her hip. Her eyes fell on Lucille. “You’ve never loved anyone so much you’d die for them?”

“Nope, I fucking haven’t.”

She glanced up at him. “Then I feel sorry for you.”

He burst out laughing. She made to move around him, but he caught her by the elbow. “Don’t fucking feel sorry for me. That shit is weakness.”

“How would you know if it’s weakness if you’ve never experienced it?” she asked, staring up at his hard, square jaw.

“Because I see it every fucking day. And it’s bullshit. It never fucking lasts.”

William appeared in her mind for an instant, but she pushed the memory of him away as she glanced at Lucille again. When she looked up at him, his eyes were glittering, daring her to say something else. She simply stared at him defiantly.

His gaze fell on the simple wedding band on her left hand. “You married?”

Instinctively, her fingers rubbed the warm metal of the ring. “Yes.”

“Where is the lucky man?”

Nayna sniffed, eyes glued to the pavement. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t fucking know?”

She swallowed. “He’s probably dead.”

Negan dropped her arm. “I’m sorry.”

She raised her brow up at him as she shifted the cage higher on her hip. “That’s big of you.”

“Hey, I’m a mighty fine, stand up kinda guy, doll.”

William was the last person she wanted to think about right then, so she moved around Negan. She was surprised to find him following her into the backyard.

“The fuck do you want this shit?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said, setting the cage down on one of the tables Daryl had left her.

He nodded and set the stuff down next to the table. She picked at invisible lint on her shirt, trying to still her pounding heart. Negan’s touch left her insides squished and liquefied.  When she looked up, she was alarmed to find him coming closer to her. He stepped closer and closer, backing her up to the fence. It wasn’t fear that made her retreat, but the pull she felt towards him as he stalked her way, his heady gaze making her feel drunk. He trapped her between his arms and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

She turned her head in his direction and her nose brushed his. All the smells and signs of spring disappeared as the Negan took over all her senses. They were so close that if either one even twitched, their mouths would touch. And Nayna wanted that so bad.

She put her hands up in self-defense and they came to rest against his chest. “What do you want?”

He flashed those white, white teeth at her. “I think you know what I want.”

With her heart pounding in her ears, she found it hard to speak, hard to think. It didn’t help that him being so close felt so wonderful. Years of physical neglect, of emotional turbulence led her to fucking ache for Negan. Her brain knew better, but her heart and body both had other things in mind. Nayna opened her mouth, but she was cut off by a loud, ringing shot that echoed around the walls.

Negan’s eyes went from soft, sexy and lustful to hard, pissed and determined. His entire face was a mask of something more than angry. Whatever it was, it turned her blood to ice and she shivered under the frost of his stare.

His voice was low when he spoke, a sharp contrast to his usual loud bravado. “You better fucking hope to whatever god you pray to that was an accident.”

He wrapped his gloved hand around her wrist and pulled her along behind him. She stumbled along as he dragged her down the alleyway and into the main road where the other Saviors and Alexandrians were looking around in alarm.

The lone female Savior stepped forward. “It came from the infirmary.”

He nodded and pulled Nayna along, yanking Lucille up from the back of the truck as they passed. As much as she wanted to struggle against him, she thought better of it. No use in angering him any further. She glanced over her shoulder and her eyes met Rick’s. He gave a slight nod and followed them into the infirmary.

“Hold this,” Negan said, and thrust Lucille into Rick’s hands before tugging Nayna inside.

Nayna blinked several times, blinded from abruptly switching from the glaring sun outside to the shadowy darkness of the house. Negan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have such problems.

“The fuck is going on here?!”

When her eyes had adjusted, she saw Carl pointing his gun at three Saviors. One of them held a black plastic milk crate filled to the brim with medicine. “They said half! They’re talking it all!”

Rick raised his hand, approaching his son the same way he would approach a suspect. “Carl…Carl, put the gun down.”

Everyone in the room tensed as Carl turned his gun to Negan. Nayna sucked in a breath to say something when Negan’s laugh cut her off.

“Hmm, really?” Negan said, pushing Nayna ahead of him and sliding his arm around her so that his hand rested on her chest, right over her heart. All her dirty, dirty mind could think of was that his hand was mere inches away from her breast. It took every measure of self-control she possessed not to arch into his hand.

Carl tightened his grip on the gun and turned to look at Negan with one steely eye. “You should go. Before you find out how dangerous we all are.”

She stiffened as Negan  pressed his front into her back. While the sensation wasn’t uncomfortable, the public nature of the gesture made it so. Of course, it was Negan, who had no such reservations as he rocked her from side to side.

Negan chortled in her ear, but his attention was fully focused on Carl. “Well, excuse me, and pardon the goddamn shit outta my fucking French, but are you threatening me? Look, I get threatening Davie here, but I can’t have it. Not him, not me, not—”

“—Carl, just put it—” Rick cut in, but Negan lifted the hand that was not otherwise occupied by Nayna.

“—don’t be fucking rude Rick, we’re in the middle of a conversation…Now, boy, where were we? Oh, yeah, your giant man-sized balls. Where’d ya get them from, cuz I know you didn’t fucking get them from your daddy there. Did you give him some balls, doll?” he said, shaking her.

She didn’t speak. Instead she glared at Carl, jerking her head at him. Carl’s gaze flitted between Nayna and Rick, but he still held it steady.

Nayna squirmed involuntarily when Negan drummed on her chest. “Speak when you’re spoken to, doll.”

“I don’t know,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Any-fucking-way, no threatening us. Listen, I like you. So I don’t wanna go hard proving a point here. You don’t want that. I said half your shit and half is what I say it is. I’m serious. Do you want me to fucking prove how serious I am?”

Negan’s fingers trailed up her chest and traced a line up and down her throat as he stared Carl down. Nayna’s eyes shot to Rick standing there, silently pleading with both of them. Everything felt frozen in time except the rapid bump of her heart, which Negan could surely feel under his bare fingertips.

Carl’s nostrils flared, but Nayna shook her head at him. He lowered the gun, his gaze lowering with it. Finally he looked up at them, his eye blazing as he shuffled past them and handed the gun to Rick.

“Ah ah ah,” Negan said, lifting his finger from her throat to shake it at them. He gestured at the gun in Rick’s hand. Rick handed it over without a word, glaring at Negan.

“Careful how you’re looking at me, Rick. This whole thing reminds me…You fuckers have a lot of guns. There is a fuckton you took from my outpost when you fuckers wasted all my fucking people with a shitton of your own guns and I’m bettin’ there is even more. Which adds up to an absolute assload of guns and as this little emotional fuckin’ outburst has made crystal clear I simply cannot fucking allow that. They’re all mine now. Pony the fuck up.”

Negan cocked his head towards one of the Saviors who held out his hand to Rick. However, Nayna didn’t get to see the transaction as Negan steered her back outside. Once again the light blinded her and she would have stumbled had he not had a firm grip on her.

She was still wearing her Sig strapped to her waist.

He bent down and whispered in her ear. “Where are my guns?”

She picked up Negan’s hand like a dirty tissue and dropped it from her chest. “This way.”

He snickered. “Don’t like it when I touch you?”

She surveyed him. “I don’t like being touched, period.”

“Why?” he asked, falling in line with her.

She gave him a side-long glance and shrugged. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Even when Rick does it?”

Nayna felt her cheeks grow hot. She squared her jaw, determined not to look at him. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under her skin.

Negan snorted. “Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.”

They walked in relative silence to the pantry, where Olivia stood with her clipboard. Negan smirked and cocked his head at her. “Lead the fucking way, dear.”

Olivia glanced at Nayna who nodded. Several of the Saviors followed Olivia deeper into the armory.

“We’re not taking a fucking scrap of your fucking food. Just letting you know how fuckin generous I am, though I can’t fucking help but notice that you got the fat lady in charge of the food,” he said, grinning down at her.

She stared up at him unimpressed. “That’s cruel.”

“Oh, don’t be so fucking sensitive. I also can’t help but notice how much some of these people look at you for fucking guidance. Everyone lost faith in Rick as a leader.”

“No, it’s always been that way,” Nayna called over her shoulder, stepping back into the sun.

And it had been, ever since Rick’s breakdown at the prison she’d taken up the slack because no one else would and no one else seemed to know what to do. Then, they put her as head of the committee while Rick was getting himself back together. After that they’d shared the burden all the way to Alexandria.

Negan stopped beside her, leaning on the iron fencing of one house. “So how much of that fucking attack on my outpost was your fucking idea, doll?”

She shrugged again, not wanting to betray Rick. “Doesn’t fucking matter. I took part in it, we all did.”

His shoulders began to shake as he put his hand to his face. “Jesus, doll. Could you be any more fucking obvious about it?”

She crossed her arms under her breasts, noticing his interested gaze flicker down and then back up. “Obvious about what?”

He opened his mouth to say something and then something behind her caught his interest. Nayna glanced behind her as Rick ambled up and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned back to Negan who was looking between the two of them with vested interest.

“Obvious,” he said shaking his head.

“What?” Rick asked.

“Nothing,” she said tersely before Negan could say anything else.

There was a scuffle from inside the pantry and the female Savior came out, dragging Olivia along and then shoving her in front of Negan. She clutched the purple composition book under her arm, and Nayna’s heart began to thump in her ears.

Olivia looked at Nayna pleadingly, but she shook her head reassuringly.

“Hey, Arat, you don’t do that unless they’ve done something to deserve it,” Negan said, shaking a gloved finger at the female Savior.

“Yeah, we checked the inventory with the guns in there and the ones on the wall. They’re missing three. Glock 9mm, a .22 Bobcat and a Sig Saur P229, 9mm,” Arat said, handing over the book to Negan.

Nayna furrowed her brow. The Sig was her service weapon and sitting at her hip as usual, but she couldn’t remember ever seeing either of the other two guns in the inventory at any point. Olivia was covertly trying to catch her eye, but Nayna looked away.

How did she fucking miss that? Olivia wouldn’t have known better, but Nayna did. Nayna had been the last one in the armory…

Negan cut into her thoughts. “Now, is this true?”

Olivia shivered under Negan’s gaze. “T-t-t-the inventory is c-c-correct.”

Rick stepped forward. “We had some people leave town. The guns might have gone with them.”

“So, you’re saying Olivia fuckin sucks at her job?” Negan laughed, wrinkling his nose as he pointed at Rick with the inventory book. Nayna’s heart felt frozen as she whizzed through the inventory and the secondary inventory in her head.

Rick shook his head. “No. I am not saying that..”

“Then there should be a fucking full accounting of the guns, shouldn’t there?”

Nayna reached into her holster and sighed. “I have the Sig. It’s accounted for.”

Negan turned to her with interest, watching as she slid the clip out of place and handed it over to Arat without another word. Handing over her service weapon was like handing over a piece of her body, a piece of her soul. Something she’d had since before it all started. She looked up, meeting Negan’s gaze, and he smiled at her.

“Good job, doll. See, she’s on board. Now, where are my guns?”

“I’ve never seen those two in the armory at any point, either. And aside from Olivia, I know that inventory from top to bottom.”

And the other one too. She licked her lips and stared boldly at Negan.

He tossed his head to the side. “Well, you’re two handguns short, regardless.” He turned to Olivia and tilted his head. “Do you have them?”

Olivia trembled and shook her head. “N-n-no..I-I-I…”

Negan looked at Rick. “You know, that’s disappointing. I thought we had an understanding.”

His eyes fell on Nayna. “I thought we all had an understanding….But this…this shows someone is not fuckin on board and I can’t fucking have that, now can I?”

Stepping forward, he put a hand under Nayna’s chin. “You know, Rick…I don’t enjoy killing women. I can waste men all the live long…But this…this was Olivia’s responsibility at the end of the day. So now what the fuck am I supposed to do? Waste Nayna because Olivia sucks at her job? Or waste Olivia because she sucks at her job and spare Nayna, which means I’m going back on my word?”

“Look, we can work this out,” Rick started, but Negan held up his other hand.

“Oh yes, we can. And I fucking am going to. Right the fuck now.”

His hand dropped to her throat and he laughed. “Don’t be fucking nervous, doll.”

“I’m not nervous,” she lied.

“Really? Because I can fucking feel your heart pounding in your throat.”

Again, her face went red, but she glared at him. “Stop touching me.”

He dropped his hand. “Sure thing, dollface…So which one of you should I kill? Olivia? You or her?”

Olivia whimpered in response, and looked between Negan and Nayna who held up her hand.

“How about we concentrate on finding the guns first and decide later?” Nayna asked through gritted teeth.

Negan’s eyes were like steel, but he inclined his head. “You fuckers have two hours to procure those guns.”

“Thank you,” Nayna said stiffly, stepping back and grabbing Rick’s sleeve.

He followed her away from Negan and they stopped in front of their house. “I’m going to gather everyone at the church…”

She caught both his eyes and his train of thought. “…and I’ll start searching the houses.”

He smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead, sending stupid butterflies flapping around her tummy. “Thank you, Nayna. I can always count on you.”

A bitter bile rose in her stomach as she watched him walk away. He could count on her, always. She just wished she could say the same.

 

In the end it was Rick and Father Gabriel who found the guns, stuffed in Spencer’s heating vent. Livid did not even begin to express the feeling on Rick’s face as he handed the guns over to Negan. Olivia whimpered in relief and Nayna ticked her head to the side allowing Olivia to flee.

Negan rolled his eyes and watched her go. “It’s fucking amazing what you can accomplish when you light a fire under someone’s ass, isn’t it?

“Well, it looks like we’ve worn out our fucking welcome here, boys! Let’s get a fuckin move on. Now, before I go,” Negan said, gripping her arm and pulling her away from the group. “Let me make something abundantly clear. All of you work for me now. That includes you, dollface. All of you need to show me some motherfucking respect. Especially you. Now, I don’t mind your sarcasm, our witty rapport, but I sure as fuck mind it if you question me in front of my men. Don’t you ever fucking do that again or it won’t be you who dies. Got it?”

Nayna watched him in silence. She wasn’t scared of the coldness in his eyes, no, she was scared of how fast his dancing eyes turned into hard ice.

“Speak when you’re fucking spoken to,” he said, shaking her slightly.

“Yes, Negan, I understand,” she said automatically in the most robotic voice she could muster.

“That’s fan-fucking-tastic, doll. I’m glad we’re on the same fuckin page about something.”

Negan leaned down, once again close enough to kiss, but he only smiled at her before swiping a finger over the tip of her nose and turning back to Rick.

“You don’t think I’d fucking forget Lucille, now do ya?” he said, reaching for the damnable bat. Rick was biting his tongue as he handed it over.

Negan’s fingers wrapped around the bat as he drew Rick in closer, speaking low enough for only Nayna and Rick to hear. “I just slipped my dick down your throat…And you _thanked_ me for it.”

As much as Nayna wanted to reach out and comfort Rick, whose face was red and whose veins were popping out of his neck, she couldn’t help but think of Negan picking up on her feelings. Instead, she stood there, half-dejected and fully angry.

“Welcome to a brand new beginning you sorry ass fucks! Toodles and ta ta.” He saluted them before turning back to his men. “Let’s get the fucking fuck outta here.”

Once they were gone she looked at Rick and leaned into him. “Surviving is fighting.”


	5. Chapter 5

When she had entered her bedroom, she found it practically stripped bare, aside from a dresser containing her clothes. Pillows, sheets and blankets were strewn pell-mell across the floor. The box that had contained all her worldly possessions had been unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the room. Someone had gone through it.

Nayna pawed through the remains as tears gathered in her eyes. Sohpia’s clip had been snapped neatly in half. Dale’s watch and Hershel’s flask were both gone completely. There were pages missing from Amy’s favorite book and the flower lay in crumbs across the carpet. Beth’s bookmark crinkled and tore as she turned it over in her hands. Her engagement ring, the last thing she had left of William, was missing as well.

The only untouched thing was Shane’s hat. Nayna pressed it to her heart as she gathered up what was left of the mementos. They were the only things she had left of the dead. Things she’d carefully kept from the rest of the group. Things she’d risked her life to retrieve at Terminus.

But the true icing on the cake was when she stood up and noticed the only picture she had of William had been torn into quarters and left like a pile of trash.

She dropped the hat and fell to her knees as she tried to piece the picture back together, whimpering and sniveling all the while.

So busy she was, she hadn’t noticed Michonne enter the room. No, she didn’t realize Michonne was there until two strong arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“Shhh,” Michonne said. “We’ll make them pay.”

She allowed herself to cry—truly cry—for the first time since the apocalypse started.

 

The next week passed mostly uneventfully. The only trouble were several uncomfortable, warm dreams where Negan and Lucille were the star features. Sometimes it was her death. Sometimes, it was Negan gleefully tearing her ring in half while stomping on Williams face. More often though, it was something much more sinister.

The Savior’s had cleaned them out. Taken the TVs, taken the mattresses, lamps, nightstands, shampoo, deodorant. Nayna, Michonne and Carol were all down to using the same stick.

Sleeping on the floor didn’t necessarily bother Nayna because it was a hell of a lot more comfortable laying on the carpeted floor than the frosty, dirt-packed earth.

Walking through the half empty house made her feel nearly empty inside. She couldn’t help but feel this was her fault. If she had stopped Rick somehow, or if she hadn’t bowed to the Saviors…Well, then they’d all be dead.

Not for the first time, Nayna felt the burden Rick carried on his shoulders. And she hated it. She didn’t want to be in charge and yet, they looked to her just as they did Rick.

It was a sunny May afternoon, when Negan’s men came to collect their share. Nayna disappeared into the house, muttering about the dishes she’d left for ages.

Michonne had given her a half smile. “Maybe he should come more often, if it means you’ll actually do some dishes.”

“I’ve been busy,” Nayna protested.

Michonne patted her back. “I’m teasing.”

“If Negan asks I’m here and I’ll come find him when I’m done.”

Michonne nodded and swung her sword over her back. She slipped from the house without another word, leaving Nayna alone with her thoughts and a mountain of dishes.

As she filled the sink with hot water, her anger and resentment built a wall around her pain. She tried not to think of William, but sometimes she missed him. The way he was before everything went to shit.

She heard the familiar whistle coming up the stairs to the porch. The door opened and Negan stuck his head in. “Anybody home?”

“No,” she replied sullenly, stacking a clean plate in the drying rack. She should have known he would fucking come find her.

“Well, hello there, doll. How in the fuck are you today?” Negan asked. He stepped into the house and kicked the door shut behind him, leaving behind a muddy heel print. Her eyes flicked from the streak on the door to Lucille, swinging back and forth as he stalked into the kitchen.

He sighed, leaning an elbow on the island. “Are we going to have to do this every time?”

She turned her attention back to the dirty pile of dishes and added soap to the hot water in the sink.

“Nayna,” he said, his tone harsh and commanding.

She looked up at him and swallowed hard, taken aback by his frostbitten stare.

“You will speak when you’re spoken to. Do not make me have to fucking say it again. Understand?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, counting to three in her head before replying, “Yes.”

Picking up a plate, she started to scrub with the vigor and eagerness of someone who actually enjoyed doing dishes. The rhythmic motions soothed her, somewhat and she could breathe a tad easier.

“That is mother fucking wonderful. Now you did not answer my question. How in the fucking fuck are you today?”

“I—”

She had meant to say she was fine, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not with the torn picture of William in her mind, or with the artifacts of the dead broken or missing. She rinsed the plate, sloughing off the soapy remnants.

“You?” he prompted her as he set Lucille on the table. His brow cocked up as he surveyed her with an interested eye.

Her knuckles turned white from the grip on the plate. But she feared she would drop it if she loosened her fingers because her hands had started to tremble so.

She put it down using both hands and leaned forward on the counter. “I am pissed.”

The evenness in her voice surprised her, but it also gave her the strength to look him in the eye.

His lips twitched and he gestured for her to go on.

“I don’t give a fuck about you taking the mattresses. You burned them. Fine. You took our guns, our ammo, our protection. Fine, we’re dangerous I get it. But you crossed the line when your people walked into my room and rifled through my things and took—”

Her voice had begun to break, so she took several deep breaths. Luckily, Negan seemed to be in a listening mood.

Nayna licked her lips and continued. “You took personal things that belonged to our dead. And what you did not take, you broke, or tore or destroyed.”

“I did say half.”

She looked up at him, her chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. “Those things were beyond precious to me. Things that will never, ever be replaceable because they represented people I loved and who were taken from me.”

Negan’s eyes flickered over Lucille and then back to her. He frowned, but said nothing.

“The worst part,” she said, her voice becoming soft and hoarse. “Is that you people ripped the only photo I had of William…”

Her nerves finally broke and she had to turn away from him. She couldn’t let him see her crying. He was the type to prey upon weakness.

But she’d been so strong for so long…

“Doll,” he said, coming up behind her. His voice was much more gentle than she’d heard from him before. “I am truly sorry.”

He did sound sincere, but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t bring back the picture or the things she’d treasured so dearly.

“I don’t want your sorry, Negan. You did it for no reason other than you could.”

He sighed. “If you recall, I was with you and Rick the entire time.”

“Your fucking people, then,” she snapped. “Not only was that the biggest fuck you ever, but someone took my engagement ring too. That was the last thing I had that he gave me.”

She tried to hide her sniffle under the guise of a cough, but she knew Negan wasn’t fooled. He’d already seen the first signs of tears. She’d seen the slight panic in his eyes.

“Nayna,” he grabbed her arm and twisted her around, tilting her chin up to look into his face. A stray tear skidded down her cheek, only to be caught by his gloved thumb.

He bent over, making her heart jump and throb. His cool breath wafted over her cheeks and he trailed a fingertip over her face. She briefly wondered if he was going to kiss her. And she wondered what she would do if he did. Her anger was quickly dissipating as his face loomed closer and closer over hers. If she tilted her head forward, she would be able to feel his mouth on hers.

“I could find a way to fucking make it up to you, doll.”

She stared at him, slacked jawed. Had he just offered to fuck her in exchange for her husband’s picture and her engagement ring? She didn’t know who she was more angry at. Him or herself. Him for being a pig and her for wanting said pig to kiss her.

“You have five seconds to let me go before I kick you in the nads,” she said.

He chuckled. “You’re standing too close to do much kicking, doll.”

Nayna raised her leg and pressed her knee threateningly against his crotch. Though her face heated up when she realized the semi-hard state Negan was in. He only looked amused.

“Don’t worry, doll. If you’re not agreeable to it, that’s fucking fine too. Though…you look like a mighty good fuck,” he said, letting her go and stepping out of ball-kicking range.

“Can you be any more vulgar?” she asked under her breath.

“What the fuck was that?”

She turned back to the dishes. “I said, could you be any more vulgar?”

“Probably, doll. Actually, make that definitely.”

She soaked the sponge in the water and snatched a bowl up. “Well, you’ve seen me. I’m here, I didn’t run off. Leave me alone and let me wash the dishes in peace, please.”

Negan busted out laughing. “Wait—you’re doing what to the dishes?”

She rolled her eyes, though her cheeks grew even hotter than before. Placing the bowl in the drying rack with one hand, she used to other to grab a plate to scrub. “You heard me the first time.”

“You are ‘warshing’ the dishes.”

Nayna said nothing as she continued to ‘warsh’ the plate she was holding, though she could feel her neck and chest burning.

“What part of Maryland?” he asked, holding his hand out for the clean plate.

She eyed him as she handed it over. “Why do you think I’m from Maryland?”

He grinned. “The first thing that tipped me off was the fucking tiniest of twangs in your accent.”

She submerged a bowl into the hot, soapy water. “I have an accent?”

Chuckling and shaking his head, he dried the plate. “Again, the twang and the word ‘warsh.’”

She raised a single brow. “Rick has a twang.”

“No, Rick had a fucking full on southern drawl. Huge fucking difference between a southern drawl and a fucking country twang.”

She handed him the bowl. “You a linguist or something?”

He ran the cloth over it. “Fuck no. Your accent isn’t something I’ve heard since fucking college.”

Intrigue and curiosity battled with her anger and frustration. As always, her nosiness won out over her temper. Nonchalantly, she dunked a glass into the water  “Where did you go to college?”

“Fucking University of Maryland.”

Despite herself a small smile ticked her face. “Baltimore or College Park?”

He stacked the bowl on top of the plate.  “You first, doll.”

“Baltimore.”

He snorted. “College Park.”

She nodded absently as she slid the soapy sponge around the glass. For a moment she’d forgotten what Negan was. For a moment she’d forgotten she was supposed to be pissed at him for his Saviors behavior.

It wasn’t Negan’s fault they had torn the picture. Though it was his fault they’d helped themselves to the box. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be rationalizing it away, but… She never could resist a charming asshole. Hell, William hadn’t even been half as charming as Negan and she never could stay mad at him, even when they were first together. She sighed and swiped her wrist over her nose, hoping to hide the little sniffle. Even thinking about William made her heart ache. She didn’t want to think anymore. All she had been doing since she came to Alexandria was think.

She needed a safe topic to steer Negan away from teasing her and away from her temper.

“You know,” she said, rinsing the glass. “I’d never noticed that I had a twang.”

He chortled. “You do. Especially on the fucking word twang.”

She shook the glass in his direction, sending droplets of water flying everywhere. “Well, it’s hard not to have a twang with the word twang. Part of the word is well…twangy…Fuck.”

What the fuck? Was she fucking flirting? No, she was supposed to be mad! Nayna pursed her lips together as Negan held his hand out for the glass. She glowered at him.

“Doll, you’ve said twang so much it doesn’t even sound like a fucking word anymore,” he said, tugging the glass from her hand.

Nayna snorted as she dumped another dish in the sink.

“Jesus fuck, doll. Why are there so many dishes?”

“I hate doing dishes. So, I skip out on it as much as I can. This is Michonne and Rick’s way of paying me back,” she said.

“You know there is a dish warsher—” he ducked as she made to snap at him with one of the other towels.

“It doesn’t work,” she said with a laugh.

Negan began to speak but his words were drowned out by the sounds of Judith’s wailing.

Shit. In her mixed range of emotions she’d forgotten Judith. His eyes met hers and then it was a race to the stairs. She won, of course, but he was right behind her all the way up and to Judith’s room.

They reached the door at the same time and Negan’s hand covered the doorknob. He met her eyes, challenging her to speak.

However, she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow and slipped into the room where Judith was pouting up at her from her crib.

“Look at this little angel,” Negan said, pushing past her and picking Judith up. Nayna held out her arms expectantly, but Negan shook his head as he bounced her.

Judith turned her face away from Negan and grimaced. “Nay?”

Nayna’s lips twitched and she grasped the chubby hand and kissed the little fingers. “Right here, love.”

Negan smiled down at the baby. “She yours, doll?”

“No. She’s Rick’s. And if Rick catches you in here, he’s going to explode,” she said, reaching over and smoothing the blonde curls from Judith’s face. Her knuckles accidentally grazed Negan’s beard. His eyes floated over to her and she flushed at the unexpectant contact.

“Yeah? No kidding. She is just precious,” he said with a grin as he cuddled Judith to his chest. “What’s her name?”

Nayna pressed her lips together. “Judith.”

He chuckled. “Who named her?”

“Carl did.”

“Why don’t we go outside and scrape up some of that fine powdered lemonade I left you people?”

She shrugged. “Fine, just don’t ask me to make it unless you like flavored lemon water.”

 

Twenty minutes later they had settled on the front porch. Nayna had extracted some lemonade from a glowering Olivia, while Negan grinned in the background as he tickled Judith’s belly.

Negan sat in the rocking chair with Judith in his lap. He rested his chin on top of her head and hummed. He was surprisingly comfortable with her. Comfortable and paternal. The idea left excited shivers in her spine.

“Don’t you want kids, doll?”

Her eyes cut to Judith. She shrugged. “Kids are complicated. Especially now.”

“Not if you’ve got a fine, grand place like this,” he said, gesturing all around him.

She leaned against the rail, staring over his head at the front door. Truth be told she hadn’t thought much about babies of her own. Not since she’d miscarried and William decided he didn’t want to try again. She sometimes liked to pretend Carl and Judith were hers, and that filled the lonely ache in her heart.

“Unless,” Negan chuckled, “you don’t want  just any kids. You want Rick’s kids.” He moved the baby onto his knee and bounced her up and down, making her laugh. “Adorable.”

Her brain froze and her heart sped up. Her cheeks burned and her eyes stung. She looked away from him, squaring her jaw. Funny how the truth hurt.

Goddammit, here she was about to cry again. Nayna hated Negan for it. He was making her weak. He was taking Nayna away and replacing her with her old, boring and weak willed-self.

Negan said nothing else, but Nayna longed to slap the knowing smile from his face.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like I have anyone to have kids with,” she said through gritted teeth.

Negan’s knowing smile turned more…biblical. “You know, I am always willing to lend a—ah—hand with that.”

Daryl’s voice echoed in her head. _I don’t know. Fuck him?_

She wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Hard…well soft pass.”

“Touche, doll. To-fu—ahh—freaking—che.”

She rose a brow at him. “Suddenly, you’ve abandoned the word fuck?”

“Well, I didn’t want to corrupt this sweet, sweet little girl,” Negan said in a baby voice. He bent forward and kissed Judith’s forehead. She wore a stony, unimpressed expression, reminiscent of Lori. It would have made Nayna smile had she not been so bewildered by Negan’s sudden fatherly gestures.

He looked up at her, taking in her furrowed, questioning brow. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

Negan went back to kissing Judith’s chubby face and talking to her in that same baby voice. Nayna stopped listening and glanced over her shoulder, down the street. She half hoped Rick would come home to relieve her from Negan and half afraid he would lose his shit if he discovered Negan holding Judith.

He snapped his fingers at her. “Doll?”

“What?” she asked with a gasp. Fuck, she hadn’t even realized she’d zoned out.

“Why the hell do you do that?”

She readjusted herself, crossing her ankles. “Do what?”

“It’s like you go temporarily retarded.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to call it?”

She tapped her toes idly on the floorboards, not meeting his eye. There wasn’t a simple explanation as to why she daydreamed. It just happened that way.

“You do that a lot before this whole mess started?” he asked shrewdly.

She shrugged.

He set Judith higher on his knee and bounced her up and down. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Now the big fucking mystery is why.”

“No, the real mystery is why you care.”

Negan mimicked her shrug and turned his attention back to Judith. “My, my. Your auntie is mighty touchy, isn’t she? You think it’s because she’s not getting any? Cuz, that’s what Uncle Negan thinks.”

“Or maybe it’s because you’re annoying the fuck out of me.”

Judith sighed. “Puck.”

Both Negan and Nayna looked at her. She winced while Negan began to laugh, making Judith laugh with him.

“I’m telling Rick she learned that from you,” he  said with a grin.

She changed tactics, not wanting to talk about Rick. “Do _you_ want kids, Negan?”

He chuckled. “Never had any before this. If I did, I’d like to think they’d be like Carl.”

“Really?”

He stroked Judith’s hair as he rocked her. “Mmmhmm.”

Nayna watched Judith’s drowsy eyes slowly disappear. “Why?”

“Giant man-sized balls.”

“So, you’re that kind of guy.”

He rested his chin on Judith’s head. “What kind, doll?”

“You want all boys who you can teach football and baseball and wrestling and all that manly shit.”

Negan gave her a wry smile. “Boys or girls. Wouldn’t matter to me.”

“That’s surprising.”

 “I’m full of surprises, dollface,” he said and his face split into a wide grin. “If you had a kid, what would you want? Boy or girl?”

“Boy,” she said.

“Really? Why?”

Nayna shrugged. “Always heard boys are easier. And I’ve never been very…feminine.”

His eyes ran up and down her body. “Extrapolate.”

She pressed her cheek to her shoulder, eyes fixated on the siding of the house. Negan’s stare made her unusually self-conscious. “I don’t know. I’ve just never been very girly, I suppose. I’ve always been more of a man’s woman. Had more masculine hobbies. Hell, my job was a male dominated field. I wouldn’t know how…I wouldn’t know how to raise a little lady. I’m not…well…a lady.”

He shifted Judith in his lap, running a hand over her curly head. “Doll, you’re fucking ridiculous.”

“What?”

“Trust me, you’re a fucking lady. I’m the leading expert in ladies,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and barely suppressed a groan. “Sure you are. I doubt you’re even married.”

Judith’s blue eyes reappeared and they wandered between Nayna and Negan.  

“Got a wife. Five of them, actually,” he said in a singsong voice as he rocked back and forth. “You know, I could always use another one,”

Nayna wrinkled her nose. “Pass.”

He looked back up at her. “Why the fuck not?”

Her gaze locked into his and stayed, even as she kissed Judith’s chubby face. “I do not play well with others.”

Time froze as neither one of them backed down. Negan’s eyes glittered, encouraging her to continue with her defiant glare. Determined as she was to not back down, the spell broke when Judith slapped her soundly across the face. Negan burst out laughing as she gave the baby the shit eye and rubbed her cheek.

Judith giggled and squirmed. “Puck!”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so sorry for the delay guys. Had quite a bit of writer's block for this story. Thankfully, I seem to be over that hurdle and here is to hoping I can get on a regular schedule for you guys.  
> Please follow me on tumblr: https://lovingzombiechaos.tumblr.com/ Right now it's full of my rambling, but if you take a peek you'll find one short, smutty story.  
> Don't forget to check out my other works, When Worlds Collide, Lost at Sea, If You Think You Can. Kudos, comments, subscriptions, bookmarks are all appreciated!

Had it only been a week since she’d stood in the kitchen, washing dishes with Negan? She crouched in the shade, laying the bale of hay at her feet and sneezing as the dust rose high into the air. The past week had felt like both an eternity and a blur.

When Rick found out that Negan had held Judith, and that Nayna had let him, they’d had the biggest argument yet. Nayna had finally left in tears, frustrated at being stuck between a rock and a hard place. She’d sat out in the rain, staring at nothing until Michonne fetched her home.

The next day Rick had apologized, and Nayna simply nodded her assent. She was too tired, too weary, too worn out to fight anymore. Plus, she had the sneaking suspicion that Michonne put him up to it, rather than it coming from a sincere place.

For the rest of the week she’d avoided Rick and Michonne and even Carl. Most days, like today, she spent feeding and caring for her rabbits. Keeping her mind occupied with them helped her ignore the flirty overtones she’d given Negan.

 _I don’t play well with others._ Like she would ever consider sleeping with him.

She pushed herself up and began to drag the bale across the backyard. She stopped as the wind picked up, carrying with it two arguing voices.

Bending down to inspect the rabbits, Nayna pretended to stuff the hay in their cage. Instead she had her head cocked to the side, listening to the voices on the other side of the fence. She squinted as she strained to make sense of what they were saying, but it was lost in the wind. Rosita’s voice grew sharper and Eugene’s lowered and warbled. She had the distinct feeling they did not want to be overheard.

Nayna edged around the fence, peering at Eugene and Rosita from between the slats. She’d heard her name and muttering, followed by Rick’s. Wiping a streak of sweat from her face, she leaned on the fence, picking at the splintering wood.

Rosita’s back was half turned to her and she stood with her hip swung out to the side, arms crossed over her chest. Nayna could see the glimmer of sweat pooling at the nape of her neck.

Eugene faced both Rosita and Nayna. His shoulders were hunched and he stared at the ground, looking like a kicked dog. Despite the long sleeved shirt on his back he showed no signs of being overheated. Bastard. Here she was with a thin, nearly sheer tank top on, sweating her balls off.

“I don’t know what Rick’s playing at,” Rosita said.

Eugene stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Whatever it is that Rick is doing, I believe we should do our due diligence and keep our heads down and mouths in the closed position.”

She threw her hands in the air. “Are you serious right now? We’re giving half our shit to some cabrón, and why? Because he came and told us so?”

He peered into Rosita’s face. “Do you have any recollection of the conversation that took place between Nayna and said cabrón? If we do not do our share, Nayna’s head will be reduced to a pile of hemoglobin and gore. I have no desire to make that a reality, thank you.”

Rosita shook her head. “And you believed him?”

He shrugged. “I believe it is in our best interest, and Nayna’s, if we keep our heads down and our profiles nearly non-existent.”

She scoffed at him and picked up the pack at her feet. “Exactly what I’d expect from a coward like you. Go do your repairs or whatever you think makes you useful.”

Throwing it over her shoulder, she walked away, leaving Eugene staring at the grass. Even from her position behind the fence, Nayna could see his jaw twitching. The hurt covering his face made her want to go to him. She knew exactly how he felt. She sighed and pressed her face into the wood. She didn’t want to admit she’d been eavesdropping, but she couldn’t let Eugene feel worthless.

“Hey,” she said, stepping from behind the fence, slightly surprised at the tiniest of warbles in her voice. She cleared her throat.

Eugene didn’t bother to look up at her. “Greetings and salutations.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “What are you up to? I could use your help or at the very least I could use you to bounce ideas off of.”

“Use me,” he echoed her, still fixated on a piece of grass.

She grinded her teeth. “That’s not—”

“—I don’t need to be used and I certainly don’t need any pity.”

She closed her eyes, pulling at the threads of the fraying top. Several deep breaths and reminders to be nice later, she blew out a gust of air making her forelocks jump and then stick to her sweaty forehead.  Somewhere along the way, she’d lost her ability to sweet talk people. Something she used to be quite good at. There wasn’t time to sugarcoat things when the dead were eating the living. Which was probably why she didn’t get along with many of the Alexandrians. Sometimes she was too blunt and couldn’t hold her tongue. This was one of those times.

She stepped forward and poked him in the chest. “Look, Eugene, I don’t feel sorry for you. Not one iota. Honestly, you piss me off.”

He pushed her hand away. “Yeah, I know. I’m a coward.” He began to retreat, but Nayna grabbed a fist full of his dark, gray shirt.

“No! You piss me off because you let Rosita and Abraham run all over you and make you think you’re a waste of space. And you’re not. You piss me off because you have so much potential, so much to add to the group and yet here you are, fixing music players and pining over someone who doesn’t have enough respect for you not to curb her fucking tongue.”

He looked up at her with red rimmed eyes and shook his head. “She’s right. I am a coward.”

“You were a coward,” Nayna corrected him, dropping his shirt and stepping back. “The man I see in front of me today is not the man I met on the road. You are valuable to us. You have the know how to keep the electricity going and the water running. What you don’t fucking know, you learn. I like that. I respect that.”

He stared at her with that same dumb, blank expression he gave Rosita and then he grumbled. “What is it that you needed?”

She released a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. Thank God, because she didn’t know how much longer she could tolerate his pity party. She betokened him along the road. “I was thinking. Aside from chickens and rabbits and gardens, we need more food sources. What about fishing? There is a river not too far away…How do you think we’d fare with the fish here?”

He followed, a few paces behind her. “I’m not overly familiar with the area but, if you find me a book, I can be.”

Nayna chuckled and ticked her fingers. “So that’s two books on fish, one on curbing wildlife and taming them…”

“At the going rate we should have the start of a fine, redneck library.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at him open mouthed. “Eugene. That’s fucking genius. Why the fuck did we not think of it before? We need a fucking library.”

“A library would enhance the quality of life here in Alexandria,” Eugene said, picking up on her excitement, a slight smile spreading across his moony face.

She grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him up the road. “Come on, we should go see Olivia.”

He stumbled, but allowed Nayna to pull him along. “Why?”

“Doesn’t she have a map and list of all the occupied houses?”

“I am unaware if such a thing exists.”

Nayna scraped a hand down her face. “I love Rick, but this sort of shit is just not his forte.”

Not only did Rick drop the ball on that one, but she felt momentarily pissed that she hadn’t thought of it before, either. They’d been so busy settling in, then dealing with the horde, and then the Saviors and now Negan AND the Saviors.

As she came back to the present she caught Eugene’s raised brow and flushed. “That’s n-n-not what I meant.”

For once, he took the hint and nodded. “He has a knack for planning, there is no questioning that, but you are correct when you say this is not his thing.”

She smiled weakly and dropped his wrist as they approached the supply house. They stepped inside the dark garage and she called out, “Olivia?”

“In here,” came the reply from the former armory.

When they found Olivia, she was sitting at a utilitarian desk, legs crossed at the ankles, feet swinging in time with her humming. She crossed something out and scribbled along the messy piece of paper.

“Hello, Olivia.”

She pushed her glasses up her face and smiled at Eugene. “Hello.” As her gaze fell on Nayna, she frowned. “What do you need?”

Nayna nudged Eugene, who cleared his throat. “Do you have a list of the occupied and empty houses?”

Olivia pursed her lips and shrugged. “It’s very outdated. Let me see if I can find it.”

Eugene watched her walk up the stairs. “Frosty.”

Nayna ran her fingers over the dusty shelves, half imagining them piled with books. “Hmm?”

“Olivia’s reception to you. Frosty.”

“Oh, well,” she tossed her head to the side. “Can’t be liked by everyone.”

“I never got the impression that she disliked you until now.”

Not that Nayna could blame Olivia. She’d nearly gotten Olivia killed. “It’s nothing.”

“I just had a thought.”

Her heart dropped, wondering if he’d put two and two together. “Go on.”

“Negan.”

Suddenly the light, airy house felt small and crushing. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Are you in distress?”

“No, just tell me what you mean,” she snapped.

He took a step away. “I was merely going to speak about the library and the issue that would come up once Negan comes back to Alexandria.”

He wasn’t talking about guns. She swallowed and nodded as she realized what Eugene was getting at. They could build a library, but it would all be for nothing.

She half smiled at him. “Aside from the big bad himself, are we sure his goonies can even read?”

That made Eugene chuckle. “Anything is achievable. If one has the inherent desire to do the work, that is.”

She laughed outright. “That would be some kind of achievement. Worthy of a medal.”

Relieved that she managed to turn the subject away, she wiped her hands on her pants. Upstairs, Olivia’s footsteps creaked along the floorboards.

“Here’s the census,” Olivia said in a breathless voice as she came down the stairs.

Nayna reached for the clipboard, but Olivia handed it over to Eugene, who skimmed over it, oblivious to the looming tension between the two women. “How old is this?”

Olivia pushed her hair from her face. “Probably from the very beginning or before you guys arrived. If there are any more records, Spencer would have them.”

Nayna peered over Eugene’s shoulder and rubbed her nose. “Which means we have as much of a chance of getting to them as we do of fucking Negan in the ass with a rusty poker.”

“I think the rusty poker is more likely,” Eugene said.

Olivia didn’t smile, but looked awkwardly between the two of them. Nayna pretended to ignore her as she scanned the list. Half the people on the list were dead, some were missing. And their group was not on it. When she glanced up she found Olivia staring pointedly at her. She sighed. Of all the people to piss off, she managed to piss off probably the nicest and sweetest person in Alexandria. Finally, Nayna turned to Eugene. “I’ll meet you outside, okay?”

“Message received. Will be outside at your disposal, boss lady.”

After the door had slammed behind him Nayna faced Olivia, whose arms were crossed over her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Nayna said. And she meant it. “I never dreamed I would put you in that position. I should have apologized earlier and for that I am sorry as well.”

Olivia sat back down at the desk and looked meekly up at Nayna. “And where are they?”

Nayna coughed and smoothed her hands down her khaki’s. “I don’t know what you’re speaking about, but if you’re implying I know where the missing…things are…the more you know the worse off you are.”

She looked away from Nayna, her chin trembling. “Oh, and I suppose being threatened with death isn’t a reason to know?”

Nayna stepped forward and hesitatingly patted Olivia’s shoulder. “I would never have let that happen to you, Olivia, I promise.”

Olivia wiped her eyes, knocking her glasses askew. “How do you know you would have been able to convince him any different? You don’t.”

Again, Nayna hesitated before touching Olivia lightly on the arm. “I would have thought of something. Anyway, you did great under all that pressure.”

She nodded at Nayna, but said nothing.

After a few moments of heavily awkward silence Nayna finally blurted out, “Would you like to come to dinner tonight?”

That earned her a small smile from Olivia. “Are you cooking?”

Nayna grinned. “Do you really think I’d torture you more? I think Carol is making a casserole.”

“Okay.”

“Dinner’s at five,” Nayna said over her shoulder as she made her way out of the house. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Eugene looked up from the clipboard. “This list is supremely outdated. I believe half the people on this list are dead.”

“I saw that as well. Looks like we have work to do. Rick called a meeting at the church this afternoon,” she said as they made their way up the road. “I think we should get a brief census there.”

Suddenly, the heavy burden she carried seemed lighter, easier. She could see the end. She could see the beginning of everything.

“Good idea. Anything else?”

Nayna ran her fingertips over her lips. “You know, I think we need something like a security team. Help keep an eye on the walkers, scouting things, taking information for people. After this whole debacle is over with Negan, I can imagine we’ll need something to tide us over.”

He flipped through the paperwork, touching his pen to the page at random intervals. “After it’s over?”

She raised a brow at him. “I thought you said you had faith in me and Rick. You think we’re going to let you people die?”

“I think the fuckery is soon to be kicked up a notch.”

Nayna motioned him down the pathway and they walked side-by-side. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “You think?”

“Men like Negan are unpredictable.”

She smiled wryly. “And men like Rick are wholly predictable.”

“Exactly. And that is something that Negan is betting his racing horses on, guarantee it.”

“So, that means we have to find a way to surprise Negan before he surprises us.”

“Your theory would be correct.”

Daryl’s words continued to ring in her brain: _I dunno. Fuck him?_

The thought made her squirm uncomfortably as a heat, having nothing to do with the weather, rose between her thighs. Oh, she wanted to fuck him. There was no doubt. It’d been so long since she had sex, she practically had forgotten the mechanics. The idea of being fucked by someone with that level of self-assurance turned her on even more. It was something she’d never had before.

But if she fucked him, then what? Negan was not the commitment type, that much she could tell by his over-confidence and bolstering swagger. He was more of the nail and bail type. She wouldn’t put it past him to fuck her and then beat the shit out of her.

She just had to make it impossible for him to kill her. At least before they took him down. She tried not to laugh at herself. Negan, in love? Bullshit. Even more bullshit that it would be with her of all people. Though, he had said she’d intrigued him.

“Oh good, we’re not tardy,” Eugene said, breaking into her thoughts.

Blinking, she shook her head, feeling blinded by the dazzling sun. How the hell had she not noticed it shining right in her eye? Probably because she was too busy thinking about Negan. He seemed to occupy most of her mind lately. If only it was the same with him…She’d have to ponder this more when she was alone.

The church loomed in view, looking rundown and dowdy in the bright, cloudless sky. Her stomach twisted as she noticed all the familiar faces milling about. As silly as it sounded, she felt like they were staring at her, accusing her of…something. Or maybe it was all in her head. Surprised, she found her fingers plucking the threads again. This was why she hadn’t wanted to go to the meeting. Too much anxiety, too much wondering what people were thinking. And too much Rick.

Eugene had edged ahead of her. “Nayna?”

Her head snapped up as he came back into focus. “Sorry, just got lost in thought.”

He nodded. “Understandable.”

She reached for the clipboard, just outside the church, ignoring what felt like a thousand stares. “Is there a map here?”

“A map?”

“Of Alexandria.”

“Negative.”

“Well, fuck me and call me Sally,” she muttered.

“Pardon?”

She froze. Wasn’t that one of Negan’s sayings? She couldn’t remember. “Oh, just—I’m shit at making maps.”

He turned on the spot, eyes scanning the horizon. “I may not be a cartographer, but I believe a map for the size of the safe-zone should not be an issue on my part. As long as we don’t have to deal with topography, everything will be peachy keen.”

She lowered the clipboard and nodded. “Perfect. When we’re doing the census, we should get everyone’s address and then compare them with the empty houses. Then we can start turning the empty houses into stuff like a library or a school or whatever.”

“There’s Rick. Think we should tell him?”

She started to say that they wouldn’t need permission, but the last time she’d done something without Rick’s permission she’d pretty much offered herself on a silver platter to Negan. “I’ll talk to him. See you in there, Eugene.”

“Nayna, wait,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Thank you.”

She blinked. “For what?”

“Making me feel useful instead of telling me.”

She patted his hairy wrist and gently removed it. “You don’t need to thank me because I already wanted to speak with you about this shit anyway.”

He smiled and turned to walk into the church. She found herself dismayed when he sat next to Rosita. But she couldn’t talk because there she was, in the same situation with Rick.

Those piercing blue eyes met hers and he weaved through the crowd. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

She gave him a smile that felt more like a grimace. “I wasn’t until I ran into Eugene,” she said as she wriggled the clipboard in the air. “I have an idea I’d like to discuss with you.”

Rick nodded. “Go on.”

She glanced around. “Can we talk in private? Just in case you’re not fond of the idea.”

His eyes followed hers and he nodded, placing his hand on the small of her back, just like Negan liked to do. The thought made her skin crawl and she stepped out of his reach and into the sweltering church. She caught Glenn’s eye and smiled as he nodded to her.

So many people stared at her as she walked between the pews. She kept her eyes on Father Gabriel, trying to shut everyone out.

It was the first town meeting she’d been to since Negan rolled through.

“Father?”

He looked up from the pulpit. “Yes, Nayna?”

“Mind if we use your office?”

“Please,” he said with a small smile and gestured to the open door.

They stepped into the office and Nayna fanned herself with the clipboard. The church had already felt hot, but Father Gabriel’s office felt like an oven. Once the door was closed, it would feel stuffy and suffocating. She wiped her sweaty face with her arm, wishing she had a cool bottle of water to roll across her slick skin. Glancing behind her, she saw Rick fared no better with dribbles of sweat sliding down his brow and into his beard. The curls on his neck were damp and stuck to his skin. Even his t-shirt was saturated. Father Gabriel on the other hand, wore his normal dark jacket and collar and looked cool as a cucumber.

She shuffled behind the desk as Rick closed the door behind them, shutting out the low din of the others. Nayna wanted to put as much space between them as possible. But it was Rick and he came to stand before her at the desk, his tired face lined with worry. “Are you alright?”

She tossed the clipboard on the desk, making papers fly every which way. “I’m as fine as I ever was. Why?”

Rick shook his head, eyes staring at the crucifixion behind her.  “You’re not acting like yourself. You haven’t been acting like yourself since Negan came through.”

She picked up a pen from the desk and began to twirl it between her fingers. “I don’t think any of us have been acting normal since Negan came through.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” he said, stepping forward and stilling the pen. “You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You’re withdrawn. You’re not yourself.”

“I sleep just fine,” she said as she wrested the pen from his grip and leaned back in the sticky, leather chair.

“Why are you so unhappy?”

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she could feel her face draining of color. Keeping her attention on the desk, she tapped the pen rapidly against the clipboard. After a few deep breaths she managed to look a concerned Rick in the face. “But I am happy.”

His heavy brow furrowed, forehead wrinkling. “Are you, Nayna? Are you really happy?”

No. Not even a little. But she put on her shaky smile. “Of course I’m happy. Everyone I love is safe. We have food, water, shelter. What more could I ask for?”

The look in Rick’s eyes told her that he thought she was full of shit. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her smile up, so instead she lowered her eyes to the messy desk. After a few beats of uncomfortable silence she cleared her throat. “Can we get back to the topic at hand?”

He watched her for a moment, considering her. Finally, he nodded and Nayna shifted herself in Father Gabriel’s sticky leather chair. She rubbed the spots where her arm had been stuck to the leather. “I think we should take a census.”

A frown creased between his eyes. “Doesn’t Olivia already have one?”

“Not a complete one,” she said, picking up the clipboard and flipping to the page. She held it out and Rick took it. She watched his eyes scan the page.

He tapped the papers. “How old is this?”

She lifted one shoulder and let it fall again. “From the beginning? I don’t know. Anyway, Eugene and I discussed this on the way up.”

Nayna carefully outlined her plan and her reasoning, occasionally pointing to something on the clipboard. She tried to keep as animated as possible. He stared intently at her, nodding at several different points, but ultimately he remained silent as she spoke about the housing and the library and schooling.

“And I think it’s really important. Education is key,” she finished lamely, toying with the threads hanging loose on her shirt.

“This is a great idea Nayna. It really is. But we have to focus our efforts on getting stuff for Negan.”

She rubbed her jaw. “And after?”

He glanced up from the clipboard, staring intently at her face. “After what?”

She leaned back, just a little from the force of his gaze. “After all this is over, then what? We’re not just surviving here anymore, Rick. We’re trying to build something.”

“What’s the point of building something if it’s just going to come crashing down?”

Her brows furrowed. “What happened to the Rick that wouldn’t back down? Do you remember Terminus? Michonne is right. Everything we’ve got, we’ve got from fighting. You remember her saying that? Come on, we can’t just roll over and take this.”

Rick moved  in close, his breath in her hair, making her shudder and inch closer to him. “This is not the place.”

They were nearly nose to nose. If she came forward, their lips would meet. What would his lips feel like on hers? Soft and feather like? Or maybe hard and demanding? What would his beard feel like on her skin? She looked into those eyes she loved so much and for a fleeting moment, she had the feeling he was thinking the same things.

But he pulled back and the moment was lost. She was suddenly thankful for the heat inside the church, for her sweaty face would mask the blush on her cheeks.

When she looked up at him, his eyes were fixated on the stained glass window. His knuckles were white from gripping the sill. He glanced back at her and nodded. “You can take census on one condition.”

“What?”

He smiled. “Today is meant to be an open forum. I want you to stand up there and help me answer questions.”

She must have made a face, because he held out his hand. “Come on, Nayna. I need you.”

She could never say no to him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for bearing with me! This chapter, while hair pulling, has been fun to write because I've learned so much about myself as a writer. I'm pretty pleased overall with this chapter and I hope you guys like it too!  
> Please, comment, kudos, bookmark, subscribe. All of it means the world to me! Each and every one of you.  
> Also, if you're interested please follow me on tumblr: https://lovingzombiechaos.tumblr.com/

“And do you know what that fucker said to me?”

“What?” she asked automatically, eyes fixated on the window to Judith’s room.

Negan’s voice droned on in her ear, but she didn’t hear a single thing he said because Rick appeared in the window, his back to her as he pulled Judith from her crib. She tucked her hair behind her ears and nodded for Negan’s benefit.

Rick’s head bobbed up and down and he gestured with his free arm. He was probably talking to Michonne.

Carl, Rick and Michonne had been having breakfast when she ambled down the stairs, bleary-eyed and messy haired. They hadn’t laid a plate for her. Michonne jumped up rather quickly, apologizing, with some story about how she thought Nayna was going to sleep in.

She waved Michonne off and plastered a smile on her face. Everything was fine, even though she gritted her teeth through the fake smile and she turned away before any of them could suggest anything. She stopped only briefly to put her boots on and fix her hair into a messy braid, nodding placidly at Michonne while secretly seething inside.

She walked out the door and straight into Negan, with that maniacal smile and far too much energy for one person. He practically bounced on the balls of his feet.

She shifted her weight to the other foot and wrapped an arm around her middle. Judith and Carl and Michonne and Rick. One big happy family. One they insisted she was part of and yet, she always felt like she was on the outside, looking in. They were her family, but she wasn’t theirs.

Most of the time she pushed her feelings about Rick to the side. But sometimes, they bubbled just under the surface like an acid pooling in her stomach. Sometimes Nayna hated Michonne and Rick. Sometimes she blamed them for taking away what she could have had.

Mostly, though, she blamed herself. Maybe, just maybe if she’d told him how she felt, then they could have been a family.

Michonne crossed into view and placed a hand over Judith’s blonde curls. Nayna’s jaw tightened. Rick leaned in to kiss Michonne. That should be her kissing Rick, making Rick laugh. Why couldn’t that be her? How could Rick be so blind that he couldn’t see what everyone else did?

Fuck, even Negan saw it the first time they met. Nayna chewed on her inner cheek at the thought that Negan read her better in an hour than Rick ever had in the three years she’d known him.

Rick’s shoulders started to shake as he shook his head at Michonne, whose thousand-watt smile lit up the dim room.

If she stayed, watching the three of them any longer, she was going to cry. Stuffing a knuckle in her mouth, Nayna swiveled on the ball of one foot, a ballerina like pirouette, and rushed down the road. She kept her head down, passing the houses, weaving her way deeper into Alexandria.

She couldn’t bear to see another soul right then. The question and answer session had been brutal, leaving her feeling attacked and ever more alone. People wanted to know why she was doing it, why they were bowing to Negan. Demanding answers she couldn’t give. And it hurt her, knowing that people were more angry at her than grateful. She didn’t understand it. She thought she’d been doing everyone a favor. Instead, it made her more of a pariah, with people seeing her as working with the Saviors and not against them. She reminded them of what they owed the Saviors. And she reminded them what the Saviors could do.

Some of them treated her like she was dead already. She wished she could say she wasn’t sad, but for some reason it stung. She supposed it had to do with not feeling like part of anything. She was always just there and everyone treated her accordingly. Until Rick fucked up and then they demanded she do something about it.

She pretended like it didn’t hurt. She pretended like she didn’t give a shit. Hell, she couldn’t let on that she did care.

A hand clamped around her elbow and spun her around, throwing her off balance. She staggered forward into the giant wall of muscle that was Negan. She smelled the stupid cologne he wore the first time they met. What sort of asshole wore cologne in the middle of the end of the world? Despite herself, she smiled. He quirked his brows in return.

“The fuck are you doing, doll?” His tone was pleasant enough, but she heard the edge in his voice.

“I got distracted.” Although he was big and warm and solid and she longed for nothing more than to be held, she twisted her elbow from his grip. Her arm tingled and…burned from where he held her.

He twirled Lucille in the air. “In other news, water is fucking wet.”

Nayna sighed. “What, Negan?”

He was all dimples and flashing teeth. “I came to see Rick the Prick actually. It’s about my load.”

“Did you blow it?”

He turned his gaze on her, razor sharp with that fucking shit-eating grin, even wider than before. “I knew it.”

Oh fuck. “You knew what, Negan?”

“That you had a dirty little mind,” he tapped her temple, “all along. It’s always the quiet ones who end up the fucking kinkiest.”

She shook her head, sucking her teeth. Asshole.

He gripped her chin. “I wouldn’t wanna waste my load on a fucker like Rick. No, I have a special fucking load that’s reserved for that pretty face, doll.”

She squinted up at him. “Yeah, that’ll happen when the dead stop walking.”

“I noticed you didn’t say it was gross. You like—hey Rick!”

Her eyes flicked up the path to Rick, speed walking their way. Nayna heart sank. Of course Negan would throw Rick in her face. And of course Rick had such poor fucking timing.

 Those blue steel eyes remained fixated on Negan even as she tried to get his attention. “What?”

Negan waved to him with Lucille. “Good fucking morning! It’s a fantastic day, isn’t it?”

Rick glowered at Negan before turning to her. “Michonne made a plate for you.”

She bobbed her head up and down. “I’m not hungry.”

He frowned at her but Negan interrupted. “Mind if I steal your girl for the day?”

She clenched her jaw. If she denied being Rick’s girl, Negan would laugh. “I’ve got work—“

“—play a little hooky doll. I’ll make it worth your fucking while.”

“I thought you needed to speak to Rick.”

“Oh, fucking right I do. Thanks for the reminder, dollface.” Negan turned that smirking gaze on Rick. “Where is the rest of my shit?”

“At the front gate, where it always is, Negan.”

“Now now, it’s not enough.”

Nayna furrowed her brow. “It’s the same amount—“

“—don’t be fucking rude, doll. I was speaking with your fearless leader. Now, we can do this two ways. You can run the fuck out and get me more supplies. Whatever the fuck you think might work. Or I can just fucking…” He swept Lucille in the air and clicked his tongue, imitating hitting her with the stupid bat. “I mean, I don’t really fucking want to, but if I fucking have to…I will. It would be a damn shame to waste not only a fine piece of ass, but someone equally as capable as four of my men. Truth be told, I kinda fucking wish someone else was the one up for the bat. Maybe your little Asian friend.”

“Enough,” Rick said, giving Negan the same look he gave to the Governor. “That’s enough. We’ll go out and get your shit.”

Negan looked at his watch. “Good. You have three hours. In the meantime, I’m stealin your girl for the day.”

Rick glowered at them both. They both knew he had no choice but to let Negan lead her away, arm slung across her shoulders. Nayna glanced back at Rick and mouthed an apology. His lips thinned into a straight line as he watched them go.

Negan rattled her. “You fuckers have a pool table? I fucking love pool.”

She shrugged. “I think one of the empty houses has a table in the basement.”

“Awesome. Let’s go fucking play a match, doll.”

She glanced back at Rick. “I can’t. I have important things to do.”

“Such as?” He tapped the end of the bat on the toe of his boot.

She shot him a look that said, ‘Anything but billiards with you.’ She gazed back at Rick, who was standing there, hands on the top of his head, face flushed.

Negan rolled his eyes and then followed her line of sight. “You really fucking love to torture yourself, don’t you?”

She shoved his arm off her shoulder and took a step back. “What do you want with me?”

“The fuck you talking about?”

She threw up her arms in the air. “You want to kill me and yet…you want to fucking date me.”

He busted out laughing. “Date you?”

“You know what I fucking mean.”

He was still chuckling. “Pardon me for wanting to fucking entertain myself with a hot woman.”

She squinted at him, unsure if he was fucking with her or not. She wouldn’t consider herself ugly, but she didn’t think she was hot either.

“You want to kill me.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. Of course he looked.

“Um, not fucking really. I’d rather fuck you.”

She flushed and rolled her eyes toward the sky. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her discomfort. The way her heart pounded in her chest. The way her mouth went dry and furry at the thought of him…inside of her. She jumped when Negan’s gloved fingers brushed a stray hair away from her face.

She pushed his hand away and stalked off. “It’s this way.”

He jogged to catch up with her.

Stuffing Lucille under one arm, Negan rubbed his hands together gleefully. “So, doll. What kind of fucking wager do you want to make?”

She blinked at him. “I don’t.”

He fell into step beside her. “Come on, doll, where is your sense of fun?”

She stopped and stared at him thoughtfully. Sense of fun? What was that? When was the last time she’d really had fun? Fuck, she really couldn’t remember.

She traced a finger along her lower lip. “Fine. If I win, you don’t take any supplies from us this week. You’ll resume your normal pick up next week. No demanding more.”

His brows shot upwards. “Oh-ho-ho! Wait a fuckin minute, that’s not how this works.” He wagged a finger in her face.

She resisted the urge to chomp down on his gloved hand. Though the thought of him forcing his leather clad finger in her mouth send pearls of heat along the surface of her skin.

“Then let me get back to my work, Negan.”

He grinned. “I don’t fucking think so. You’ve gotta make this worth my goddamn while, doll. What do I get if I fucking win?”

“I’ll give you that kiss you so fucking desperately want.” There was no earthy rhyme or reason why she should have said that, and yet she did. He looked as surprised as she felt. And then that chocolate melting grin spread across his face. She liked that smile. It made her fucking forget he wanted to bash her damned brains in.

He leaned in close. “Tongue?”

Yes. “No.”

“Gotta have tongue, doll, otherwise what fucking good is that?”

“No tongue.”

He stood up, looming over her. “Fine, then half your supplies this week.”

“Alright, tongue,” she said with a slight sigh.

“Hot damn, doll. I can’t wait to kick your fucking ass in pool.” He pumped his fist, making Nayna roll her eyes hard enough to feel light-headed.

“Pool table is in that house.” She pointed to one of the nearby buildings and he placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her along the road, Lucille thrown over his shoulder.

“Got any fucking beer?”

“No.”

He clucked his tongue against his teeth. “Whiskey?”

“No.”

“Bourbon?”

She stepped over the small fence and onto the dying lawn. “Negative.”

“Jesus, you got anything at all to fucking drink?”

They stopped and Nayna bent down, clasping the handle for the garage door. “I’m not the person to ask. I don’t drink.”

His eyes flicked down to her ass. “Who the fuck doesn’t drink?”

She grunted as she hauled the rusty, groaning door upward. “Number one, stop staring at my body. Number two, I don’t fucking drink because it’s stupid. My luck would basically be me getting shitfaced and then a fucking horde would roam through the area and I’d be too drunk to function. It’s also not fucking safe for that exact reason.”

Negan put a hand under the door and pushed it the rest of the way open. “You really think you’re going to get eaten here? I think you’re pretty fucking safe.”

She fixated an unblinking stare on him. “You’re never safe, Negan. It’s always an illusion.”

“The fuck does that even mean?” he asked to her retreating back.

She picked her way through the boxes and tools towards the back of the garage where she flicked on the lights. “Come on, it’s in the basement.”

He followed her inside the little house and watched as she pushed the windows open. “The fuck you doing?”

“Airing the place out. Never know if someone will need it,” she said in a strained voice as she opened a particularly stubborn window.

“Like you?”

“What?”

“You fucking live with Rick. Don’t you fucking think you need a home of your own?”

She stopped and eyed him warily. “Please don’t tease me about Rick.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I asked nicely.”

Negan gestured outwardly. “Well, since you fucking asked me nicely.”

“Thank you.”

He sauntered into the kitchen and began rifling through the cabinets. “Think they stored any of the fucking good shit here?”

Nayna opened the basement door. “Didn’t we just go over this, Negan? Your people took all of our shit, remember?”

“Ah fuck a duck. Well, I’ll find something.” He used Lucille to point her down the stairs.

In the basement, he propped the damn bat in the corner and together they found a bottle of the cheapest whiskey, hidden at the back of a dusty cabinet. Negan grimaced as he took a swig from it. “Not too fucking bad.”

He held it out to her, but she moved past him to the bar and thrust a glass into his hands. “How about not acting like a fucking pig and using a cup?”

He threw up his hands and snorted, like a pig. Nayna glared at him and he laughed.

“You need to get a fucking sense of humor.”

“I have a sense of humor, you’re just not fucking funny.”

“I am fucking hysterical.”

Nayna just shook her head and flipped the light directly above the pool table on. Thankfully the balls were all neatly queued, as if they were just waiting for someone to play. She gnawed on her lip. What the fuck had possessed her to make such a bet? She was pretty terrible at pool. Maybe she wanted to kiss him. She glanced over at him, watching her as he sipped the honey colored liquid. He raised his brows at her and she sighed. Yeah, she wanted to kiss him.

Four years had passed since she’d been kissed last. A salty peck from William before he got on the ship. Because they were angry at each other. As usual.

Negan cleared his throat and picked up a pool cue, holding it out for her. “Ladies first.”

“Pass. You break the balls.”

“Aww, I thought you said you were a world class ball breaker. You’re so fucking good at busting mine.” He bent over the table, lining up his shot.

“And yet, you seem to enjoy it. You keep coming back for more.”

He peered at her over his shoulder and laughed. “Jesus Christ, doll. That is not what the fuck I meant.” He paused, considering her before chuckling again. “It’s true what they say then.”

“Who is they and what do they say?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t fucking know who they are, but they say the sweet and innocent looking ones are always the ones with the fucking dirtiest minds.”

Her eyes flicked downward to Negan’s ass. It was a nice fucking ass. “Me, innocent? Hah.”

There was no denying her filthy mind. One of the things that William hated about her. She could turn any innocent phrase into something perverted. She stared over at the bar. A drink sounded really fucking amazing right about then.

A loud clack brought her attention back to the table as the balls rolled every which way. She watched them bounce against each other and off the wall, spinning out of control before coming to a complete halt.

“Doll?” Negan poked her with the stupid stick and she wrapped her fingers around it without even registering his presence.

She couldn’t help but think about William and their first date. He’d been the one to teach her how to play pool. She never beat him, but damned if she didn’t give him a run for his money.

Why was she thinking so much about her husband as of late? The first few weeks she thought about him constantly. Then she met Rick and William just didn’t match up anymore. By the time they got to Herschel’s farm, Nayna had given up all hope of finding him.

She hadn’t even insisted on going to Quantico when they passed it on their way to Alexandria. Sometimes, she didn’t want to find him.

“Nayna?”

She shook her head and muttered, “Sorry,” as she stepped up to the table, eyes searching for an opening.

Negan leaned his hip against the pool table. “So, dollface, what did you do for a fuckin living before all this shit?”

Nayna bent over the table as she lined up her shot. She could feel Negan’s eyes on the ample amount of cleavage spilling from her top. “What’s it to you?”

He burst out laughing as she missed the cue ball entirely. “You’re fucking awful at this, you know that?”

Silently and with a burning face she handed Negan the pool stick.

“Let’s see,” he said, surveying her as he chalked up the end of the cue. “You weren’t a housewife.”

“How do you know that?”

Negan smiled and bent over the table. “You don’t look like the fucking Holly Housewife type. Not the type to be content sitting at home doing fucking nothing.”

She smiled and watched as he knocked a striped ball into the corner pocket. “I wasn’t a housewife.”

He stalked around the table and lined up his next shot. “Hm. If I had to chance a fucking guess, I bet you were a fucking lawyer.”

Nayna threw back her head and laughed. “Wrong. So, so very fucking wrong.”

The stick slammed into the cue ball and sent another brightly colored ball into the middle pocket. “Okay, so you weren’t a fucking lawyer or a housewife.” He glanced up at her. “You don’t look like the fucking corporate drone type.”

She watched him, bemused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not the sit back and watch type. You’re a fucking doer. I fucking love that about you. You get shit done.”

She placed her hands on her hips, raising a brow. “How would you know that? You’ve met me, what? Four times? Maybe five?”

Negan chuckled and drained his glass and placed it on the edge of the table. “And every single time you’ve been doing something.”

“Yeah, well, unlike you we don’t have the luxury of sitting on our asses while someone else does all the hard work.”

“You think it’s easy leading those fuckheads out there?” He gestured up the stairs with the pool stick. “If I had to choose between a fucking box of rocks or them, you know, I’d really have to sit down and think the fuck out of it.”

She picked up Negan’s empty glass and turned it over in her hands. “You think so little of your people?”

He shrugged. “If the obnoxiously large condom fits…”

She glanced up at him with a raised brow. “Two inches isn’t really obnoxiously large.”

Negan looked pained. “Two inches? What the hell have you been fucking? Your husband have a mini-micro-weiner or something?”

Her lips twitched with a smile. “It was a joke, not a dick Negan. Don’t take it so hard.”

“Wait, weren’t we fucking joking about hard dicks?”

She laughed “You have about as good a chance of guessing what I used to do as of guessing my fucking name.”

He grinned. “Oh really? Well, fuck, I love guessing games.”

She perched herself on the edge of the table, crossing one leg over the other. “Well, go on then.”

“Anna?”

“No.”

“Sarah?”

He took another shot. Miss. She took the stick from him and twisted it in her hands.

“Nope.”

“Faith?”

“Do I really look like a fucking Faith to you?”

He snorted. “Nah.”

She hopped off the table and chalked the stick with Negan watching her. Whatever the fucking chalk was supposed to do. She had no idea what she was doing as she bent forward, cue stick sliding between her thumb and index finger.

He laughed as she missed another shot. “Well, we know for a fucking fact you were never a professional pool player.”

She squinted up at him. “Fuck you.”

“You keep fucking shooting like that and I’ll be getting that kiss for sure. Hell, I think you’re fucking losing on purpose.”

She turned her back on him to hide her burning face. “Do you really think I want to fucking kiss you?”

His hand wrapped around her bare elbow and he twisted her around. She shivered as goosebumps popped up along her arms. With his face inches from hers he whispered, “I don’t think. I fucking know. You’ve got those fucking eyes. Jesus fucking Christ, doll. Those are I’m-sad-but-I-need-to-get-fucked eyes. Your mouth is saying no, like you were always taught, but your fucking fuck-me eyes are fucking begging me.”

By the time, he finished his little speech, his mouth was close to hers. She was glad to find his breathing just as heavy as hers, glad to know she affected him just the same. Placing a hand on his crisp white shirt, she pushed herself back. His heart slammed under her fingertips and his brows shot up.

“You haven’t won yet, Negan. Don’t count your chickens before they’ve hatched.”

She shuddered as he leaned in closer, hovering just out of lip’s reach. He was too close, too dangerous. “Stop.”

His voice was husky. “Why?”

She reared back. “I don’t like being touched.”

“Bet you don’t fucking mind when Rick touches you.”

 “I mind it when anyone touches me.”

He stroked a fingertip along her jawline. “Why? That’s such a weird fucking issue to have.”

“I don’t know.”

He frowned at her, but dropped his hand and stood up to his full height, towering over her. “Do you fucking think I’m going to hurt you?”

Her eyes automatically shifted over to Lucille, propped up in the corner of the room. He grabbed her chin and turned her face towards him.

“Don’t fucking give me a reason, doll.”

She stepped away. “Let’s just fucking play this stupid game.”

Negan snorted and turned back to the table. She played with the small silver band on her finger, sliding it up and back down. Her jaw tingled from his touch. Any type of physical affection was hard for Nayna. Even with Rick. Especially with Rick. Carl and Judith were probably the only exemptions, while Glenn could get away with it occasionally, otherwise, she kept her distance. Negan being in her personal bubble made it hard for her to breathe, to think, to be. But there was always that one little urge in the back of her mind. The urge to be touched, held, loved.

How could she explain it without sounding stupid or juvenile? How could she explain it, when she was the one who came up with the idea of the kiss?

As Negan landed the 8-ball in the corner pocket, Nayna’s stomach rumbled with hesitant anticipation. She kept smoothing her palms over the front of her cargo pants and shifting her weight between each foot as he sauntered around the table, collecting the various balls. Occasionally he would look up at her and smile at her with that wolf’s predatory smile. He knew what he was doing to her and he was fucking savoring it.

He kicked over a stool and sat in front of her, so their faces were level. Negan’s fingers curled about her hips and he dragged her closer to him. Instinctively, she placed her hands on his wide shoulders.

He smirked at her obvious distress and allowed his fingers to slide from her hips, up to her waist. Her back tightened in response. He must have felt it, as he started to knead his fingertips into her sides. How was it possible to like something and dislike it so much at the same time?

“Well?”

She cleared her throat. “Well what?”

“You going to fucking kiss me or not?”

“What?”

“The bet was for you to fucking kiss me. Not for me to fucking kiss you.”

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the bubble of excitement in her belly. The warmth radiated from his chest and seeped into her skin as she leaned forward. Her eyes fluttered shut.

It was the first time she was initiating a first kiss. Before she reached his mouth, a nervous snort escaped her nose and she pulled back, covering her mouth with her hand as she began a full on fit of the giggles.

Negan still held her firmly by the waist, though his brows were raised. “You fucking alright?”

She giggled harder at the gruffness and desire in his voice. “Maybe?”

His darkening eyes searched her twisted face. “I think this is the first fucking time I haven’t seen you with a poker face, doll.”

Her other had had fallen from his shoulder down to his chest, rising and falling with each heavy breath he took in.

He grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her face up to his. Her shoulders still shook with the giggles and she panted with the effort to keep calm.

“Doll—“

Two successive shots rang above them, instantly killing her laughter. Both looked up at the ceiling and then at each other. Her in fear and him in anger.

He pushed her away and strode over to Lucille, wrapping a big hand around her handle. “You better hope to fuck that wasn’t one of your people being stupid. Get the fuck upstairs and out there, now.”


	8. Chapter 8

The shadowy echoes of the gunshot rattled around in her mind as her heart thudded in her ears. The shallowness of her breaths made her lightheaded. She barely even registered Negan’s yapping as he walked up the stairs, Lucille swinging ominously from one hand.

The Saviors were the only ones with guns. No one else knew where the guns were. One of Negan’s Saviors must have shot one of her people. Nothing else made sense.

Propelled forward by that sickening thought, she took the stairs two at a time and raced to catch up to Negan, who was waiting for her in the doorway.

She stopped at the top step and set her jaw.

“Oh, how nice of you to fucking join me. Care to fucking escort me to the fuckery, dear doll?” He gestured outside with Lucille.

“Get out of my way,” she said, her voice deep and husky.

Negan threw his head back and laughed. She found herself studying his throat, though not because she wanted to jump him. No, she wanted to wrap her fingers around that big, thick throat of his and squeeze until his head popped off.

“You better hope to Christ, to God, to Allah or whatever you pray to that my people are fucking safe, Negan. Or it’s no longer my ass on the line. It’s fucking yours.” She stepped off the stairs towards him and jabbed him in the chest.

He grabbed her jaw and dug his thumb and forefinger into the fleshy part of her cheeks. “Don’t fucking threaten me again, Nayna.”

She never broke eye contact with him, even as she brought her forearm up and swept it to the side, effectively knocking his hand free. “Get out of my way, dickbag.”

For someone so big, Negan sure moved fast. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her up against the adjacent wall.  It took every fighting nerve for her to override her instinct to headbutt him and then kick him in the balls. Again, she brought her arms up, but he was already expecting it and he grabbed her wrists and pinned them high over her head.

“Don’t you fucking get it?” Nayna panted as she struggled both internally and externally. She tried to ignore the intense fire budding between her legs from being rendered helpless.

“Fucking get what, doll?” His face loomed just above hers. Close enough to kiss. Or bite.

“Your people have all the goddamn guns!”

In a split second the hot air ran cold as fear flashed in those dark eyes of his. But Negan was the ultimate master of emotions and the fear was scrubbed away with the scraping of his hand up and down his face. It didn’t remove the worry line on his forehead, however and she was momentarily vindicated and confused. He dropped her arms and stepped back.

She rubbed her wrists, chest still heaving from the close contact. “Guess that little fact escaped your tiny mind.”

But he didn’t rise to the bait. “Look at this. You made me fucking drop Lucille.” He bent down and scooped up the bat. Turning it over, he examined it for damage. “It’s like dropping the American Flag on the ground. Just disrespectful as fuck.”  
“Yeah well, after we figure out what the fuck is going on, I’ve got some matches so you can burn her.”

He snorted. “No, you should fucking apologize to her.”

“I don’t fucking have time for this shit,” Nayna snapped. “Not while I’ve got people to think about.”

“Fuck,” he said again and pushed past her. “Let’s fucking go.”

She could barely keep up with his strides, having to trot just to stay beside him. Was he really fucking worried that one of his people killed one of hers? Interesting.

“I think it came from near the gate,” Nayna said, veering off to the left.

They hurried towards the gate in relative silence. Her heart sunk when she saw the crowd, intermingled with Saviors and Alexandrians alike.

Carol stood just on the outside of the circle. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Nayna and Negan. “Where have you been?”

“She was with me,” Negan said, smoothly. “I needed her to run an errand.” 

Carol’s eyes flitted over him, but he turned to the crowd. “Anyone mind telling me what the fucking fuckity fuck happened?”

People turned to stare. First at Negan, then at Nayna and then back to Negan again. She ignored them, insteadpeering over Negan’s shoulder to see the source of the gunfire.

“One of your men shot themselves.” Carol crossed her arms over her chest, still staring accusingly at the pair of them.

Negan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, taking in several deep breaths. “You gotta fucking be kidding me.”

Before she could help herself, a grin formed on Nayna’s face and she leaned forward and whispered, “Bet that box of rocks looks great about now.”

If looks could kill, she would have dropped dead right at that very moment from the pure venom in his glare. Nayna chortled and shrugged, which made him shake his head and push his way through the crowd to the injured person.

“You know what really sucks?” Nayna called out over the heads of several people. “You took all our medical supplies at the beginning. You might want to rush Tweedle-Dum home.”

He stopped and turned back to consider her before sighing heavily and running his hand down his face. “Motherfucking idiotic fuckwad.”

One of the female Saviors, a tall blonde with a nose ring, stepped up to Negan. “Sir?”

“Load him into the fucking truck and fucking haul ass back. Make sure his fucking truck goes first. Now!”

The Saviors scrambled to throw things into the backs of their trucks and skitter away from him. The rest of the Alexandrian crowd huddled together in the middle of the road.

Nayna picked her way through to Negan and she stopped in front of him. His eyes flickered downward and then back up to her face, sending a rush of heat all along her skin.

Whenever she was around Negan she always became astutely aware of her body. What position she stood in. Where her hips were in relation to him. The way her body tingled when he touched her. On one crazy-ass plane of her mind, she reveled in his attention. Fuck, he was the first man to openly flirt and pay attention to her in that way. Even William had been reserved and cool. On the other hand, she hated it because of who he was. And because she meant nothing to him aside from cannon fodder.

“What?” She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thoughts whirring in her brain.

“Anybody fuckin’ home, or have the elves all left the fucking factory?” He waved Lucille in her face, making her step back.

She waved him away. “Get that bitch out of my face or I really will fucking burn her.”

“Is that any way to fucking treat my lady?” He ran his fingers along the length of the bat, caressing her as a lover would. Caressing her the way Nayna wanted to be touched. Great, now she was jealous of a fucking bat. A fucking bat that was getting more action than she ever would.

“Jesus you’re fucking delusional. It’s a fucking bat.”

“I know it’s a fucking bat. But this bitch, as you fucking so kindly called her, saved my life on numerous occasions. Hell, she’s the only bitch I’ve ever fucking loved.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your poor fucking wives.”

He chuckled. “Doll, we both know they aren’t with me for fucking love.”

She searched his face for even a hint of remorse or pain but found none. What ran through this man’s head? Normally she could read people like a book. Negan, however, was a mystery. A repellant, intriguing mystery.

“It must be your big, meaty dick.” She couldn’t believe she’d said that. It was a comment she might have made to her old partner, Sean or maybe Daryl. But fucking Negan? She just felt dirty after that, even as the perverted part of her brain slithered into thoughts of sex and fucking.

Negan threw his head back and laughed. “Your face is so fucking red. I fucking knew you had a perverted mind under all that prudery. I called it.”

Unable to look at him, not wanting to prove him right, she couldn’t meet his gaze.

He stepped closer to her, his body heat seeping into hers. The already warm day became stifling and muggy. He tucked a finger under her chin and lifted her head up. “You could come back to the Sanctuary and find out all about my meatstick.”

She burst out laughing. “Meatstick?!”

“Jesus…” He stared at her as she doubled over, giggling. Of course, he took the opportunity to check out at her tits. “The fuck is so funny?”

“You called your dick a meatstick! Oh God, that’s fucking hilarious.”

He watched her as she continued to laugh. But it felt so good to laugh. She hadn’t laughed like this in…weeks…months…maybe even years.

Finally, she stood up and half patted his chest. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t making fun of Meatstick Negan. I’m just a twelve-year-old boy deep in my heart who laughs at fart and titty jokes.”

Her smile must have been infectious because he grinned back at her without warning. “Meatstick Negan will fucking be waiting for you then. Toodles.”

He stepped back and gave her a two-finger salute before turning back to his men. “The fuck you lookin’ at? Let’s fucking get our asses on the road! Bunch of fucking slow motherfucking dickshits.”

She turned her back on the retreating cars, only to find the remaining Alexandrian’s looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and disdain. Their stares made her feel like a naughty child, caught in the midst of wrongdoing.  Her eyes darted from person to person in the crowd, her gaze occasionally resting on a familiar face.

It wasn’t her fault that Negan forced her hand. She had to play nice. Otherwise, they would have put another body into the ground and there would be no other protection from Negan. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she looked over the ignorant faces before her. Never had she hated so many people at once.

It was all too much for her to handle. She turned her back on the people who counted on her. She turned her back on the unexpected rush of emotions. With several pairs of eyes watching, she left, slipping down alleyways and darting between houses to avoid stragglers. Not really paying attention to where she was going, she blinked in surprise when she found herself back inside the living room of the little house.  

She inhaled sharply and leaned against the wall, glad she was alone. How could she face any of them with the way she was blatantly flirting with Negan? 

All she ever wanted was to fit in, and no matter what she did, she never could. She bled for those people. Stood up for all of them.

When she closed her eyes all she could see was Carol’s hardened gaze, Aaron’s disappointment, Eric steadfastly avoiding her eyes, Rosita’s accusatory stare and Eugene’s look of pity.

The pity hit her the hardest. She could handle all the adversary in the world, but pity wasn’t something she could abide by. Pity made her appear weak.

She rubbed a hand over her now pounding head and sighed. Now what? She couldn’t go home and face Carl or wait for Rick. Word would get back to him once they got back from the supply run, and knowing him, he’d give her a serious talking to. Or worse, he’d look at her with those understanding blue eyes and she would want to break down.

The door banged open, making her jump even as her hand curled around the knife at her waist.

“Nayna?” Glenn’s voice called out from the foyer. “I know you’re here, I saw you come down this way.”

Of course, he did. And of course, he would follow her. She let go of the handle, her shoulders sagging.

“In here,” she said. She winced at the warble and waver in her voice. Great, all she needed now was an emotional breakdown. She pressed her knuckle into her lip.

“You okay?” He leaned on the white doorframe, holding a small silver package against his thigh.

“Peachy.” She shuffled her way to the ugly white couch and flopped down.

He sat down next to her and passed her the box. “Found this on the last supply run. Thought your nerdy side might enjoy it.”

Smiling, she turned the box over. “Coup. I fucking love this game. I used to be so fucking good at it.” She glanced up at him. “You up for a match?”

He shook his head. “No. I actually came to find you because I need your help with something.”

She scratched the surface of the box. “Can’t Maggie help you out?”

It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want to help Glenn. She just wanted to be alone.

“She needs her rest.”

“She’d be pissed knowing you’re treating her like a little pregnant woman.”

Glenn stood up and watched her with his steady eyes. “Nayna, come on.”

He so rarely asked her for anything. Much like Rick, she couldn’t say no to Glenn.

She sighed and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”

 

Half an hour later, she found herself standing idly in the doorway with the toolbox at her feet while Glenn shined a light under his sink. She rocked from side to side, eyes roaming the expensive kitchen. The kind of kitchen she would have never been able to afford with its stainless-steel appliances, granite countertop and white-washed cabinets.

He motioned to the box. “Hand me the wrench.” 

She rolled her eyes and crouched down, pawing through the toolbox. “So, I’m a glorified tool handler.”

“Eh, I prefer assistant sanitary specialist.”

She chuckled. “You would.”

He sat up and looked at her. “What are you doing?”

“I am currently looking for the wrench. It’s a very important job for the assistant—“

“—that’s not what I meant.”

She refused to meet his eye. “Well, I don’t know what you mean then.”

“What happened to you?”

“What happened to you?” She countered, still searching for the stupid wrench.

“Don’t think we all haven’t noticed that you haven’t been yourself for nearly six months.”

She yanked the wrench from under several other tools and thrust it into his hand. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

He set it aside, watching her. “Bullshit. You know it. I know it. Rick knows it. We all know something is wrong.”

She shrugged. “There’s always been something wrong with me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Way to feel sorry for yourself.”

“There’s something wrong with all of us, Glenn.”

“You’re not the  _you_ I remember.”

“What ‘me’ is it that you’re referring to?”

“You’re cold and detached. And yet you jumped in front of a bullet to save all of us. Why and why?”

She shrugged. “I’m not detached.”

“Could have fooled us with that poker face of yours.”

She clenched her jaw and looked over his head, focusing on the detachable faucet. “I’ve always had a poker face.”

“Yes, but…” He bit his lip, considering her. “Your actions have never matched your face. Now? It’s like you don’t care anymore.”

Stung, she let her mouth drop open. “I don’t care? How can you say that to me?”  
His hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach for her, but thought better of it. “I know you care. I know you do. But, you’re drifting away and…Well, I’m worried about you. You don’t come to Sunday dinner with everyone. You barely talk to Maggie anymore.

Before Negan came you were always out hunting. Now you don’t go out at all. You zone out all the damned time now. You’re not Nayna anymore. It’s like…”

She sneered. “Like what?” 

A shadow passed over his face. “It’s like you’re Meghan and not Nayna.”

“Hell, Meghan is who I was and who I will always be.”

“I call bullshit. Meghan is the veil Nayna hid behind. You’ve always been Nayna, but you were scared—“

She held up her hands, cutting him off. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to be better. I want you to be both Nayna and Meghan because that’s when you are at your best.”

She stared at the linoleum, tapping her thumbs against her bottom lip. Now would be a good time to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. At least, not on the outside. On the inside, her heart cried every day. 

“Stop shutting down, Nayna.”

She swallowed thickly and shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s a protective measure. A defense mechanism. I’ve never, ever been good at showing emotions. At least not on my face. Because I was never allowed to be anything but happy as a child, I trained myself to keep a blank face. I was never happy and I couldn’t live that kind of lie. In the end, I just adopted a poker face. And now? I can’t get rid of it, no matter how hard I try. And, I do try. I try and try and I just can’t let it go. I don’t know how.”  
Glenn’s compassionate eyes searched for hers, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. Her teeth bit into her cheek as she tried to anchor herself in the physical world. 

“I’m lost.” She couldn’t have admitted it to anyone but him. Especially not Rick. What would he think of her? 

Glenn smiled wryly. “I know. Why do you think you’re here, helping me fix my not broken sink?”

She tilted her head back, her heavy braid falling over her shoulder as she rubbed her hands over her temples. “I don’t know what to do. I….”

“Part of this is Michonne and Rick, isn’t it?”

Her muscles tensed and she pursed her lips. “Don’t.”

He sighed and scooted closer to her, offering his hand. She sat back and leaned against the cabinet, considering his warm, open hand. It was the same gesture she gave to Rick when Lori died. To her, the gesture represented love and solidarity. Two things she so desperately wanted and needed.

Tentatively, she placed her own shaky palm in his and he wrapped his long fingers around hers, completely encasing her hand.

“Just because he doesn’t love you the way you want him to, doesn’t mean there is no love there. You are his best friend. You matter to him. You are one of the most important people to him. He needs you.”

“What about what I need?” She hated to hear her voice sounding so small, so weak.

“You need him to need you.”

She smiled at him, sudden enough to make him raise his brows.

“What?”

“You sound so much like Herschel.”

He laughed. “Thank you.”

“God,” she said with a huff, blowing her bangs from her forehead, “I remember when he hated us.”

“I remembered when he hated me.”

She wriggled her hand from his and ran it through her hair. Her mind had begun to race and all she wanted to do was sleep. She lay her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I miss Shane.”

Glenn said nothing, opting instead to wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her against him.

 


End file.
